The Gift of Darkness
by pari106
Summary: **Chapter 13: another brief update from a wayward author hoping to appease the readers she's kept waiting for WAY too long. Sorry!**
1. Default Chapter

"The Gift of Darkness"  
by pari106  
pari106@hotmail.com  
http://www.pari106.homestead.com/damain.html  
  
Code: M/L   
Rating: PG-13, just in case, for language.  
  
Summary: At the hands of Lydeker, Logan undergoes a startling transformation. Is this "gift" a blessing?   
Or a curse?   
  
Author's Note: This takes place after "Meow" in an AU where Max was not captured. Continued from the   
prologue.  
  
  
  
Chapter One  
  
It had been a week since Lydeker and his men had taken Logan. Now Max sat where she had remained for   
the last several hours: in Logan's wheel chair, next to the window, staring out at Seattle. They hadn't   
bothered to take it with them when they'd grabbed him – the wheel chair, that is. Now Max sat there,   
staring, wheeling back and forth just an inch, over and over, as if in a trance.  
  
Bling and Zack were there in the room with her.  
  
"The more I think about it…," Zack was saying. "I don't think Manticore was in this at all."  
  
Bling was sitting on the couch and Zack was perched on the other edge of it. Bling had made it out of the   
shoot-out with Manticore okay. Okay except for a cast around his arm and some nasty flesh wounds, but   
he had made it out.   
  
"Why do you say that?" he asked now.  
  
"Well, Lydeker and Manticore aren't exactly friendly right now. And I bet the old man didn't even know   
about Tinga."  
  
"Now why do you say *that*?" Max suddenly asked, startling her companions. She hadn't been very   
talkative since waking up back here, where Zack had taken her after Lydeker'd knocked her out. And her   
tone was disbelieving, but Zack smiled. Happy, at least, that she was talking to him again. Not moping,   
like usual, over wonderboy. He'd told her that Cale was trouble. Was she really surprised that the guy had   
gotten himself caught? Hell, Zack would have been surprised if he hadn't.  
  
"I watched that place a long time before we made our move. I never saw Lydeker there. Not once. That   
lady they got running things over at Manticore was there an awful lot, though. And she and Lydeker aren't   
friendly either. I think she's trying to get rid of him, and he's taken it upon himself to get back in the good   
graces of his superiors."  
  
"By capturing some guy off the street?" Bling asked.  
  
And Max swore. "No. By capturing *Eyes Only* off the street. Damn it, they must have found out who   
he is."  
  
Zack just nodded.   
  
"You think they've blown Logan's cover?" Bling asked.  
  
And this time Zack laughed. "Don't sound so surprised. It wasn't like Cale had a great secret identity or   
something. Everyone and their dog knows he's a cyber journalist. It was bound to happen. Hell, I'm just   
surprised it didn't happen sooner."  
  
Zack walked over to Max. "I told you you were risking yourself by staying here. Lydeker could have had   
you that day. And all because some damned fool altruist in a wheel chair decided he wants to save the   
world in his free time."  
  
"Zack…"  
  
Max' blood began to boil. She didn't need this right now – Zack's criticisms. She didn't need it. She   
needed Logan and, damn it, he wasn't here and she was feeling *really* not in the mood for Zack's shit.   
She knew what her brother thought of Logan. The two had always clashed. Zack was moody and bitter   
and Logan had never approved of his life on the streets. And as far as Zack was concerned, Logan was   
arrogant and spoiled. Just some rich kid with a death wish. The informant net was a waste of time if you   
asked Zack. And Max figured she wasn't the best person to defend Logan's work. Hadn't she felt the   
same way when she'd first met Logan? Hadn't she told him often enough that he was crazy for doing the   
things he did? Like turning in his uncle's business and losing the family fortune? But it wasn't a waste of   
time. It was Logan's life. And it had become hers. He had believed in what he was doing and, somewhere   
along the way, she had begun to believe in him, too.  
  
Then Max' became even angrier at herself. 'What the fuck are you doing? Thinking in the past tense?   
"He had believed…" What's that crap?' She took out her frustration on Zack  
  
Or she would have. But Bling managed to get in the way.  
  
"We have to destroy the files on the informant net," he was saying.  
  
"No!"  
  
"Max, you know the order. If something happens to Logan, we destroy the files. Otherwise we put the   
informants in danger of being found out, too."  
  
"But we need the net. Logan's got a lot of people on the inside, right? Surely one of them can help us get   
him out of there," Max said. "We're not going to let anything happen to Logan."  
  
Bling sighed. They'd been through this before, when a smuggler'd grabbed Logan and Sung. As it turned   
out, Max had been right then. Bling would have liked to believe that she was right now. But he wasn't   
stupid. Logan hadn't just been his boss, he'd been a friend. And he hated to admit it, but Logan was gone.   
They wouldn't be able to save him from himself this time.  
  
"Something already has, Max," Bling told her. "You know the kind of shit Logan had going down. And   
Lydeker knew he was helping the X5s. You think they'd have gone after him in the first place if they had   
any intention of letting him live?"  
  
"We're not destroying the files," Max insisted. And Bling didn't like the look on her face. He suddenly   
realized he was in the middle of arguing with an X5. Who'd just lost her boyfriend. And who looked very   
unhappy. That wasn't a good combination.  
  
"We're going after him," Max said. Zack shook his head.  
  
"Maxie…"  
  
And then everyone stilled as the sound of a thump at the door suddenly reached their ears. Max tensed in   
her seat.  
  
"What the…"  
  
But Zack silenced her. He pulled out a gun and Bling, taking his cue from the younger man, pulled one   
from his back pocket with his good hand. They slowly began to approach the door. Logan hadn't had a   
single caller since the abduction. They weren't expecting anyone and callers knock - they don't "thump".   
It was better to be safe than sorry, they'd decided, and so the two men took up positions on either side of   
the door, and Zack reached forward and pulled it open.  
  
And then a body suddenly tumbled forward into his arms.  
  
"Critchlow!"  
  
Bling automatically recognized the man, and helped Zack turn him over gently. His coat looked normal   
enough, but beneath it his shirt was totally soaked with blood. There had to be at least six gun shot wounds   
gaping in the man's side and stomach. And he was as pale as the floor tile on which he lay bleeding.  
  
Zack had set aside his weapon, and was now feeling around for the guy's pulse.   
  
"You know him?"  
  
"Uh-huh," Bling stared down at the man, shocked. Jack Critchlow was in his late thirties; wiry with short,   
curly brown hair. He was an engineer that Bling and Logan had met at a charity benefit about three years   
ago. He was also an employee of Manticore who'd come to Logan with information for a case they'd been   
working on at the time. And he'd been an informant ever since. Bling told Zack all of this.  
  
"Well, he's no informant now." Zack said, giving up and sitting back. Distancing himself from the now   
lifeless body between them. "He's dead."  
  
Bling shook his head, cursing. He hadn't seen Jack in at least a year and a half. Logan had been trying to   
keep him out of the action as much as possible. When his wife had died under mysterious circumstances   
he'd become somewhat of a loose canon. And Logan hadn't wanted him getting himself or them into any   
unnecessary trouble. Bling figured it was only a matter of time before that trouble caught up with them,   
anyhow. But, still, why Critchlow would show up here, now, like this was a question he didn't have the   
answer to.  
  
Or so he thought. As it turned out, the answer was sitting right in front of them.  
  
Zack and Bling were so intent on the body that had tumbled through the door that they hadn't yet bothered   
to look out at the hallway from whence it had come. Max, however, did. And as soon as she did, she   
gasped, drawing Zack and Bling's attentions. The two men were at her side in a moment. And then they   
saw exactly what she saw: sitting there, slumped against the wall, unconscious, was…  
  
"Logan!"  
  
  
  
**** ****   
  
  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

"The Gift of Darkness"  
by pari106  
pari106@hotmail.com  
http://www.pari106.homestead.com/damain.html  
  
Code: M/L  
Rating: PG-13 for language  
  
Chapter Two: A discovery is made.  
  
Chapter Two  
  
Everything that happened after Max laid eyes on Logan, happened in a blur for her. Zack and Bling helped   
her drag him into the penthouse and into his bedroom, dropping him on the bed there. And then Max did   
everything she could to help Bling, who immediately went to assessing Logan's injuries.  
  
Logan's shirt was bloodstained just as it had been when Max had last seen him, but he had no head injury.   
He did, however, have a number of gunshot wounds: one in his right shoulder and one in his left thigh.   
They were clean shots so Bling had only to sterilize and bandage the wounds. Then he tried to clean Logan   
up a little and changed his clothes. Max was there throughout it all, trying to avert her eyes at the   
appropriate times and wincing every time she glanced at his bandages. She wanted to revel in her hatred   
for Manticore, but couldn't quite put her heart in it just yet. She was still too relieved to have Logan back.  
  
During this entire time Logan remained unconscious, and after Bling had done all he could he went into the   
other room. Max was vaguely aware of his arguing with Zack over something – probably about whether or   
not they should call a doctor. She wasn't in it. All she wanted was a few moments alone with Logan to   
regain her composure and to reassure herself that he was really back.  
  
Max felt like laughing. It really was pathetic. And suddenly giddy with relief, Max' silent laughter at   
herself soon turned into full giggles. She laughed so hard her eyes teared and her shoulders shook. She   
laughed until she was afraid she was going to start bawling and had to stop.  
  
'Damn, girl, but you're a mess,' she thought. And she was. All the years she'd tried to be the big and   
tough X5 that she was, and now here she was, reduced to sobs and giggles by one little human who   
couldn't even walk, for crying out loud.   
  
Max sighed. He was such a cute little human, though. And smart. And funny and honest and sexy and   
brave. And strong and, not to mention, sexy… Max sat there, holding Logan's hand, noticing for maybe   
the first time how good his hands felt, and staring at his face. She thought about all of the things she loved   
about him, about which of his features she liked best – like his chin or the way he smiled. His lips. She   
thought about their kisses and how long it had taken her to realize she was in love with him. Thought about   
how easily it could have all been over with, and how she'd never even had the chance to tell him how she   
felt.   
  
And without realizing what she was doing, Max began running her fingers down the side of Logan's face.   
She'd never gotten the chance to touch him like that before. Nor had she ever run her fingers through his   
hair – she did that now, too. There was so much they'd left undone, she thought. And, lost in her thoughts,   
Max carried on like this. She found herself staring at Logan's closed eyes and at his long lashes. His eyes   
were her favorite feature, she decided. So blue.   
  
She liked them so much, in fact, that it took her a moment to realize she wasn't just picturing them in her   
mind, but that they were actually open now. Logan was awake and staring straight at her.  
  
"Oh!" She was so startled she jumped.  
  
"Oh, yourself," Logan mumbled back, his voice heavy and thick. He still seemed groggy, but his eyes were   
alert and he tried to smile. His smile. His eyes. Max realized how she must have looked, sitting there   
staring at him, and she realized she was probably grinning now, ear to ear, like an idiot. And she still had   
enough to sense to feel wary about this. But she was too tired of hiding her feelings, and facing the   
possible consequences, to backtrack now. She just smiled back, and didn't even let go of his hand.  
  
"Hi," she tried again, surprising and pleasing Logan simultaneously. It was hard for him to focus, however.   
He was still felt so disoriented. At the back of his mind questions gathered, but he was too tired to ponder   
them.  
  
"Hi," he said back. It was all he could manage before unconsciousness overcame him again. But it was   
enough to reassure Max. It felt as though a weight had been lifted from her shoulders and, suddenly   
exhausted, Max began to doze off, as well. Still holding Logan's hand, she lay her head down next to him   
on the bed and slept.  
  
**** ****  
  
That's how Zack found her later – sitting in a chair next to Logan's bed, hunched over and holding his   
hand. Only she'd shifted in her sleep, and now instead of lying on the bed, her head had somehow found   
its way atop Logan's chest. It might have been an endearing sight. If Zack hadn't found it to be so   
disturbing.  
  
Zack stopped in the doorway, momentarily immobilized. And he felt every reason he'd ever had to hate   
Logan Cale come creeping into his system to boil his blood. It took him a moment to shake these feelings   
away; to shake away the domestic scene before him. But with a little effort, he did. And, more for the   
purpose of giving himself something to do than anything, Zack crossed the room and opened the blinds.   
Making a lot of noise in the process.  
  
As he'd hoped, the noise itself was enough to wake Max up.  
  
"Have a nice nap, sis?" he asked, trying to make his voice sound a little less accusing than it might have   
been otherwise.  
  
Max struggled back to the land of the living with a little difficulty. She rubbed her eyes, trying to regain   
her bearings. Where…what…then the events of the last night rushed back at her. Her relief igniting anew,   
she glanced down and over at Logan, happily. Then she noticed their hands, still linked. Had Zack seen…  
  
Hastily, Max removed her hand, pretending to stretch, more out of embarrassment than anything. Zack had   
always seemed disgusted with her relationship with Logan. Even when she hadn't realized there was a   
relationship. Of course, Zack was pretty disgusted by any relationship. A real romantic, Zack was. Max   
had always disagreed, so she didn't know why she cared what he thought about her holding Logan's hand.   
What was it to him, anyhow? Still, she found herself distancing herself from the bed.  
  
Zack rolled his eyes when Max couldn't see him.  
  
"What time is it?" Max asked.  
  
And Zack motioned backwards out the window. "Almost morning. Guess you got your few hours of sleep   
for the night."  
  
"I guess so. Where's Bling?"  
  
"Out to meet some doctor friend of his."  
  
Max had walked over from the bed to stand by the window now, and Zack was only a step away from her.   
And he suddenly found himself staring down at the top of her head, unable to look away. For the   
thousandth time since he'd met the man, Zack wondered what the hell Cale had ever done to hold such   
power over Max. Why was it his bed she woke up by, all drowsy and sexy and cute? He stared at the dark   
ringlets around her face, the dark eyes and pouty lips. Then he turned away, hating the way his hands   
itched to reach out and touch her.  
  
What the hell did he care if Max chose to waste her time on Mr. rebel with a cause? He was just her big   
brother, not her keeper. She could wake up by whatever bed she wanted to. And why did his reaction to   
that thought seem anything but brotherly?  
  
As always, Zack felt confused and frustrated around Max. And, as always, that confusion and frustration   
manifested itself into an anger that Zack had to struggle to subdue.  
  
"Who's the doctor?" Max was asking, bringing Zack out of his reverie. He felt like he'd been standing   
there, staring at her for hours, but it had only been seconds.  
  
"I don't know," he said. "Some 'connection' of Eyes Only. Bling wanted to bring in some local doctor,   
but I talked him out of it. We don't know which of Logan's informants Lydecker's clued in on, if any.   
And we can't bring in somebody new. Damn, what the hell is the matter with these people? Do they have   
to make everybody they know a target for Manticore?"  
  
Max shrugged. "He needs a doctor, Zack."  
  
"Yeah, well, he's getting one. If he's waited this long he can wait a little longer." Zack said the words   
casually, but despite himself he was beginning to feel guilty. Perhaps he should have let Bling call that   
local guy. It had been hours now since they'd contacted the other doctor, and it could be another hour or so   
before he made it to Seattle. Cale looked better now that Bling had cleaned him up, but that didn't mean he   
was okay. Zack still had nightmares about what they'd done to him the last time he was at Manticore, and   
he hated to think what an experience like that would do to an ordinary human. Despite his differences with   
Logan, he didn't wish that on the guy. And he found himself feeling a reluctant admiration and sympathy   
for his rival.  
  
"Listen," Zack began, not believing he was saying this, but feeling oddly compelled to do so. "Maybe I   
was wrong. About Cale," he told Max. And that "Oh really?" look her raised eyebrow sent him was   
enough to make him grimace, but he didn't back down. It did, however, prompt him to rephrase what he   
was about to say.  
  
"Maybe he's not as big a wuss as I thought he was."  
  
Max snorted, and her comment made Zack smile. "I didn't think that was the word you used to describe   
Logan."  
  
"Well, there's several words I'd use to describe wonderboy, but for the sake of propriety I won't mention   
them in front of a lady."  
  
Max snorted again, and Zack continued, but with sincerity this time. Hell, this wasn't comfortable for him   
to say. And the only reason he was saying it, he told himself, was because he felt bad for talking Bling out   
of calling his physician. Why stall any longer?  
  
"Look, I'm just saying that he made it out of Manticore alright; held his own. Anyone who can do that…"  
  
Max was just looking at him, waiting for him to finish. But with those big brown eyes staring up at him,   
Zack suddenly couldn't quite think of what else to say. Someone else, however, didn't seem to have that   
problem.  
  
"Thanks. I think," he said, and Zack and Max turned towards the bed as one.  
  
"Logan!"  
  
Logan struggled to focus his eyes and his mind as Max sat down in the chair next to him once again.   
'Good,' he thought. So she really was here. He'd thought that he'd dreamed her, sitting there beside his   
bed, looking so worried and…and whatever else it was that she had looked that had made his heart race.   
But then, he hadn't thought Zack was around. Or maybe he really had been dreaming the whole thing.   
Max, holding his hand, caressing his face, staring into his eyes? Yeah, right. 'Keep dreaming, Cale,' he   
thought with a bit of disappointment. Then shook it off. 'She's here now, isn't she?'  
  
"How 'ya feeling?" Max was asking.  
  
Like a whole bunch of little X5s were having a wild orgy in his head – that's how he felt. Not that he could   
say that.   
  
"Like I had an unfortunate encounter with a freight train. Ow."  
  
Logan winced, and returned his pounding head back to the pillow from which he'd tried to extract it. He   
seemed to have misplaced his glasses, and now he wondered if his blurry vision could be attributed to their   
absence, or if the pain in his temples was the culprit. The blood was rushing through his ears, but he still   
managed to hear Zack's mocking laugh.  
  
"You should have been so lucky," he was saying. "You're lucky Manticore didn't kill you. If it wasn't for   
your friend, Critchlow, in there, they probably would have."  
  
"Critchlow?" Logan looked up, his weary mind turning the familiar-sounding name over for inspection.   
"Jack Critchlow?"  
  
He had no idea what they were talking about. Max and Zack exchanged a look. And Max tried to fill him   
in.  
  
"Critchlow showed up here with you. We figure he helped you break out of Manticore."  
  
"Manticore? Why…"  
  
And then it came back to him. Up to that point, Logan's mind had been too clouded with exhaustion and   
pain to remember anything, but now it did. He remembered…but only up until the moment that soldier had   
gotten the better of him with a bump on the head in front of Sam's clinic. Manticore had had him. Jesus.  
  
Then something else occurred to Logan. Max had said they "figured" Critchlow had helped him. Did that   
mean…  
  
"Jack. Is he…" But one look at his companions told him everything he needed to know. Logan swore.  
  
"He was shot up pretty bad," Zack told him. "So were you, by the way."  
  
The younger man motioned to Logan's bandages, and Logan reached up and touched one, not remembering   
having been shot even once. Not feeling the wounds now. Not feeling much of anything, really. His limbs   
felt weighted and numb, perhaps because of the painkillers Bling must have given him.  
  
Max watched his confusion with concern. "You don't remember any of this?"  
  
Logan shook his head, wincing again at the pain of movement, but trying to cover it. Damn, but he wished   
Zack wasn't present. He hated being weak. Hated his paralysis, most of all, because it made him weak.   
Hated being weak in front of Max. And Zack never helped matters any. Mr. super soldier. He'd gotten   
shot in the kneecap last night and now he was perfectly fine. One bullet and Logan had been confined to a   
wheelchair for life. And now, a few bullets later, he was stuck in bed like an invalid. 'Way to impress the   
lady,' he thought, avoiding looking Max in the eyes.  
  
"I remember some soldiers approaching me and Bling on the sidewalk," Logan said, then suddenly looked   
up, concern marking his features. "Bling?" he asked. But Max just shook her head. "He's okay. He went   
to get you a doctor."  
  
Logan nodded, sighing in relief.  
  
"What about after that?" Zack asked. "Anything?"  
  
"Nothing."   
  
"We were there," Max suddenly told him, causing him to look at her in surprise.  
  
"I mean, we were in the area. We saw them come at you…"  
  
"And mounted a daring rescue," he finished for her. "I take it that didn't work."  
  
Max smiled. "'Fraid not."  
  
And Logan sighed. "A full army escort just for me. Looks like Eyes Only just lost his anonymity."  
  
"Looks like it," Max said. "Logan, I'm sorry."  
  
"For what?"  
  
Max didn't get a chance to answer that, as a voice from the doorway interrupted the conversation.  
  
"Perhaps for having me dragged here this early in the bloody morning?" the man suggested, shuffling into   
the room.  
  
The voice was accented and Max couldn't believe who it was attached to. The man – or should she say   
kid? He was almost younger than she was – had spiky blonde-orange hair and wore rose-tinted glasses   
with rectangular frames. Beneath his long coat, he wore a black sweater and blue jeans whose hems had   
been cut off at the bottom, just over the toes of his vintage doc martins.   
  
"Who the hell are you?" she asked.  
  
"The only doctor, within about a thousand mile radius, who won't turn your boyfriend, here, into the sector   
police for whatever it was he did to get shot at. Am I right?" the young man asked, raising a brow at   
Logan.   
  
In the way of greetings, it wasn't his most charming. But being dragged to Seattle at one o'clock in the   
morning, after having spent an entire night raving, did not for a happy doctor make. Besides, he was used   
to being constantly harassed about his age and credentials. He'd learned that the best way to deal with his   
patients doubts was to just ignore them and do his job. If he did it right, people figured it out on their own   
that he was for real. If he didn't, people died. Either way, he wouldn't have to deal with any annoying   
small talk.  
  
Despite all that, Logan smiled. He'd been an upperclassman at the university when Russell Sean had   
registered as a freshman. The only freshman that had ever been able to teach their biology teacher a thing   
or two. He was a kid prodigy, and a wealthy man's grandson to boot – that hadn't made him very popular   
with his peers, or Logan's. But Logan had never been much for the corrupt in-crowd, himself, and he'd   
always liked Sean. And had always trusted his abilities – even if he had dropped out of med school before   
he'd ever gotten his license. The classes had really just been window dressing, anyhow, and as Logan   
knew, all too well, the wealthy didn't really need licenses or diplomas to set up shop. Russ no doubt had   
been able to establish a state of the art lab in which to work without either one. And there was no doubt   
that that lab and his abilities had been needed. After the pulse, it became extremely difficult for the   
common person to get affordable, dependable medical care. Especially from someone who wouldn't tattle   
to the government at the first chance they got. Since Russ' father had been killed working with a group of   
underground oppositionists, that wasn't a concern. And since Logan had helped the younger man destroy   
evidence of that fact, some years ago, in order to protect the doctor's life, Russ had always told him that he   
owed him one. Now it looked like Bling had decided to call in that favor on Logan's behalf.  
  
"Good to see you again, Russ," Logan told him, smiling, and for the first time, Sean smiled back.  
  
"Good to be seen," he replied, glancing up at Max and Zack. "I take it neither of you were the ones who   
shot him?"  
  
Max bristled at the accusation, whether it was serious or not, but Zack actually smiled. "Unfortunately," he   
said, making the doctor laugh.  
  
"Russell Sean, this is Max and Zack. They're…friends of mine," Logan introduced, hesitating over what to   
call them. He and Zack were hardly friends, and he and Max…Well, it was close enough. "Max and Zack,   
this is Russ. We went to the same university."  
  
"Great," Zack quipped. "Another rich kid with time to kill." It was a statement that Logan and Russ   
pointedly ignored, though Max thew her brother a scathing look.  
  
"So you're a doc, huh?" Max asked. She had a lot of questions rolling around in her mind about this guy   
and about Logan. He didn't talk much about himself or his past, and she imagined it would have been   
interesting to meet him in college. Before Eyes Only. But the questions could wait.  
  
"I'm a doc," Russ said. "Sort of."  
  
Then he turned to Logan before Max could ask him what he meant.  
  
"Heard you took one for the cause, buddy," he said, beginning to unwind the bandages around Logan's   
shoulder. He and Logan made a point of not delving into each other's business on the rare occasions that   
they got to speak. Neither could be what the government would consider model citizens. But, Russ did   
worry about his friend; Logan had become a sort of big-brother figure for him throughout the years they   
studied on the same campus. And he'd always appreciate what he'd done for him that time after his   
father's death. It was Logan's help that had kept him safe; had allowed him to continue practicing   
medicine for those who really needed it. If it weren't for him, Russ might not have lived to meet the   
woman he'd recently married. And now they had a daughter on the way.  
  
And it was also why, despite his grumbling about the time and his jovial attitude, Russ took Bling's call   
very seriously. He'd always wanted the chance to repay his friend. And he'd seen the vidcaps of that   
"mysterious shoot-out in downtown Seattle". He'd recognized the faces of the men who those soldiers had   
been shooting at. And he'd thought, then and there, that he'd lost his chance forever. It had really   
disturbed him. Now, though, seeing Logan alive and conscious was an immense relief to Russell. And, as   
the bandages fell away from Logan's shoulder, it was also a great shock.  
  
"What the hell is this?" he suddenly mumbled, looking up from Logan's shoulder to Logan himself.  
  
"What?" Logan couldn't see what the doctor was looking at, but his response immediately put him on   
edge.  
  
Instead of answering, however, Russ turned to Bling, who had just entered the room.  
  
"Why did you tell me he'd been shot?" he demanded.  
  
And, as Zack just looked on in confusion, Max came around the bed to face Sean head-on.  
  
"Because he *has* been shot," she told him, angrily. What the hell kind of games was this kid playing?  
  
And Russ was thinking the same thing about all of them.  
  
"Oh, really?" he asked, not at all amused, as he pulled the bandages away from Logan's shoulder   
altogether.  
  
"Shot where?"  
  
There was no wound anywhere to be seen on Logan's shoulder.  
  
  



	3. Chapter 3

"The Gift of Darkness"  
by pari106  
pari106@hotmail.com  
http://www.pari106.homestead.com/damain.html  
  
Code: M/L  
Rating: PG-13 for language and "stuff"  
  
  
  
Chapter Three  
  
Throughout the time period in which "Dr." Sean performed his examination of Logan, the three other   
people in the penthouse spent their time either pacing (that would be Max), glaring at something (that was   
Zack, of course), or wondering whether or not they were crazy (actually, that was pretty much what they   
were all doing). And after all of the pacing and glaring and wondering became tedious, Bling put on a pot   
of coffee and let the aroma draw his X5 companions into the kitchen to talk about it. As a lure, the coffee   
worked very well. And he'd made it extra strong – to perhaps clear their minds. Make things seem less   
impossible. It wasn't quite as effective at this, however.  
  
Bling just stood there, shaking his head. He'd seen a lot of weird shit in his time. Especially after coming   
to work for Mr. Cale. And Max and Big Brother Mean over there pretty much topped the list of "weird".   
Until now.  
  
"I must have imagined it," he was mumbling to himself. But not mumbling quietly enough, apparently, to   
escape the X5s' heightened hearing capabilities.  
  
"No you didn't," Zack told him. "We saw it, too. He was shot."  
  
Bling snorted. "Yeah, *was*. But who goes from *was* shot, to *wasn't* shot in less than a day? Huh?"  
  
The question was largely meant to be rhetorical, and it echoed through the tense silence of the kitchen for a   
moment, then died, unanswered. Or mostly unanswered. A thought was beginning to form in the back of   
Max' mind; an impossible thought. But then, wasn't all of this pretty damned impossible? That thought   
was: 'An X5. An X5 can go from shot to not shot in a number of hours. Zack did. We all do. An X5 can   
do that.'  
  
But as soon as she thought it, Max dismissed the idea. 'Yeah, an X5. But Logan's not an X5, is he?'  
  
Then Russ was walking into the kitchen.  
  
"How's our boy?" Bling asked, offering Russ a coffee cup, which he accepted with a nod.  
  
"Asleep," he said. "He's exhausted. His whole body seems to be shut down. His heart rate is slow; his   
reflexes are slow. His tactile responses aren't what they should be."  
  
Russ made his way from the kitchen to the living room with the others in tow and plopped down on the   
couch there.  
  
"And the strange thing is," he continued, "that his responses keep changing. I examined Logan three times   
and each time was different. His visual acuity and auditory responses, for example."  
  
"What do you mean?" Max asked.  
  
And Russ sighed. "I mean, when I first examined Logan I pulled out all the stops. Did the whole eye   
chart, hearing test thing. Everything short of sticking a depressor in his mouth and asking him to say "aw".   
At first, he could hardly see a thing – even with his glasses on. But the next time I checked him his   
responses were off the scale."  
  
Russ shook his head, his face and voice betraying his awe.  
  
"He was reading the copyright information off the bottom of the chart! Without his glasses. And his pupil   
dilation…I've never seen anything like that before. It's like he was able to actually *control* it." Russ and   
Bling didn't notice the looks Max and Zack exchanged at this. "But he had no idea what I was talking   
about when I asked him about it. And by the time I tested him again he was tired and right back to   
squinting at the second line again."  
  
Russ shook his head yet again, rubbing a hand over his face. When he didn't say anything more, Max   
spoke up.  
  
"So…what does that mean?"  
  
"I don't know," he responded. "Like I said, he's asleep now. He'll probably be out for a while. Without   
more of my equipment I can't tell you what's going on with him. My suggestion is to let him rest. I'll be   
back to check on him again when he's back on his feet. Well, figuratively, anyhow."  
  
"You're leaving?" Zack asked, to which Russ raised an eyebrow.  
  
"What else can I do? I came here expecting to find a gun shot victim. Which I still haven't bloody well   
figured out, by the way. I don't know what Logan's been up to lately…and I don't suppose any of you   
would like to tell me if you don't have to. So I'm assuming we need to cover all of our bases here, sort to   
speak. I'm going to take some blood and DNA samples back to my lab for analysis. Hopefully we'll know   
more once the results come in."  
  
Max shook her head. This was all just moving a little too fast for her. When they'd gotten Logan back   
she'd thought that was it – everything's okay. She only needed a doctor to reassure her of that. Now she   
didn't know what was going on with him at all.  
  
"But he's alright, right?" She asked Russ. "Besides the whole disappearing gun shot wounds thing, he's   
okay, isn't he?"  
  
Russ stood up, handing his empty coffee mug to Bling. "He's as fit as I've ever seen him. Besides the   
whole disappearing gun shot wounds thing," he said, using her words. "The blood tests will hopefully   
confirm that."  
  
Russ said his good-byes and Bling saw him out, leaving Max and Zack in the living room alone together.   
Both were wondering whether or not they should tell the other what they had on their mind.  
  
"I can't believe he got out of Manticore without a scratch," Zack finally said. It just didn't stand to reason.   
There's no way Eyes Only could have spent a week at Manticore and not have gotten himself dead, or close   
to it. And they'd already checked him for bugs – he was clean; Manticore wasn't trying to trace him or   
anything. And since they'd already had him and Max once, and let them go, he didn't know what the use   
would be if they were.  
  
"Maybe he didn't," Max said, suddenly.  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"I mean…" Max took a breath and shook her head. This was going to sound crazy. Hell, it was crazy just   
thinking about it. But she couldn't shake the feeling she'd been getting ever since Russ had removed those   
bandages from Logan's fully healed shoulder.  
  
"Maybe they didn't mess with him. Maybe they messed with his DNA."  
  
"What?"  
  
Of all the directions Zack might have expected Max to be going with what she was saying, that wasn't one   
of them.  
  
And Max could see the disbelief etched clearly on her brother's features. "Look, he was shot, right? We   
saw it. And he suddenly heals himself over night? And that thing with his eyes? You can't tell me that   
doesn't sound familiar." Max was referring to the X5s' extraordinary visual abilities – they could control   
the dilation of their pupils, allowing them to focus on objects at any distance, almost like adjusting the   
focus of a telescope or a pair of binoculars.  
  
Zack laughed. He actually laughed.  
  
"So, for just a moment, Doc Russ thinks wonderboy's eyes look weird and you think that means Manticore   
turned him into some kind of psuedo-X5?"  
  
Max bristled, but tried to keep her irritation in control. She couldn't blame him for doubting her; she   
doubted herself.  
  
"How else do you explain those gun shot wounds?" she asked.  
  
And Zack ran a hand through his longish blonde hair in frustration. He liked riddles even less than she did.   
"I don't know. But whatever the explanation, that isn't it. Don't look at me like that, Max. Plain and   
simple, the real is you can't turn a human X5. Hell, you can't even give a human X5 blood transfusions –   
you found that out for yourself. And Manticore doesn't know how to fix that. So how do you think they   
managed to manipulate Cale's entire *DNA*?"  
  
"I don't know. There has to be some…"  
  
"And even if Manticore did have that kind of technology – and if Ben was right and the Lady exists, may   
she have mercy on us if they do – even if they did, why the hell would they want to use it on Eyes Only?"  
  
"You said yourself that you don't think Manticore is in on this," Max told him.  
  
"Yeah, okay. So, what, now you think Lydecker did this himself? Oh, that's more believable."  
  
Max was just going to comment to that when Bling motioned to her from the door of Logan's bedroom.  
  
"I…uh, hate to break up the sibling pleasantries," he said, causing both Zack and Max to roll their eyes.   
"But Logan's awake again."  
  
As Max headed for Logan's side, with Zack right behind her, she felt her irritation over their argument   
beginning to fade. And in its place was anxiety. She knew there were a thousand reasons to say that what   
she was thinking was insane. But somehow she didn't think so. She was right, she could feel it. And   
she'd never disliked being right so much in her life.  
  
  
  
**** ****  
  
  
  
The last thing Logan remembered was Russ leaning over him, asking one too many questions as exhaustion   
began to creep back up on him, stealing his concentration. The next thing he knew he was waking up again   
and the doctor was nowhere around. It wasn't like Logan had never slept deeply, dreamlessly like this   
before. But he'd never done so so often, so deeply, in so short a time. For all he knew, he'd been out the   
entire week since he'd disappeared. And it was disturbing that he still felt so groggy and disoriented now.   
The doctor had told him that he couldn't find anything wrong with him physically, and he was getting   
restless now to prove it. And for that reason he made himself open his eyes and stir when the only thing he   
really wanted to do was to lay back down and drift away.  
  
'Come on, Logan,' he told himself. 'The world's still broken, remember? It's not going to fix itself while   
you lie here like a damned invalid.'  
  
He blinked, beginning to take stock of himself as he felt the last of the fog clearing from his mind. He   
didn't feel like he'd been bedridden for almost two weeks. Truth be told, he felt…fabulous. He actually   
felt good. And the longer he was awake the more aware he became. Everything seemed sharper somehow;   
heightened. The sun shone brighter; the sounds around him sounded louder. Logan smiled as he imagined   
he could even hear the sound of traffic outside; the sounds of his neighbors walking around their   
apartments.   
  
'Yeah, you're happy to be alive. Let's not have our imaginations carrying us away, here,' he thought.  
  
But it was funny. It really *did* seem as though he could hear those things.  
  
There were other things on his mind, however. Particularly the woman headed for his bedside.  
  
"Hey," she said, hands in her pockets, smiling.  
  
"Hey, yourself," he said, smiling back. He was in such good spirits, in fact, that he even smiled at Zack.  
  
"Hello, Zack," he told the younger man. And received a nod in return.  
  
"You back with us for good?" Zack asked. "Or are you gonna need some more beauty rest?"  
  
Zack's sarcastic comments were always that – sarcastic. Not like playful banter. But there wasn't any real   
heat behind this one, and Logan laughed, cocking an eyebrow.  
  
"As if it would help, right?"   
  
Then he winced. When he first woke up in the penthouse his senses had been highly dulled – from pain   
and fatigue or drugs he didn't know. Then it had been like everything he saw was from behind a swath of   
gauze; like everything he heard was from a long distance away. And Logan assumed his companions were   
taking that into account – they were shouting loud enough to take his ear off. And it was beginning to give   
him a migraine.  
  
"You don't have to yell, though. My hearing's just fine now, thanks." He said, rubbing at his temples.  
  
And Max, Zack, and Bling just looked at one another at that, but didn't say anything. Max found herself   
taking Logan's hand as she had that first night he was home, regardless of whether or not Zack or Bling   
would notice. It was worth it to see the sudden look of pleased surprise that leapt into Logan's eyes at the   
gesture.  
  
"How are you feeling?" Bling asked then. "Did Sean tell you anything?"  
  
Logan's laugh held a lot less humor this time. "What's there to tell? I'm fine and he doesn't know why.   
And, frankly, I don't like it."  
  
"Me neither," Zack told him.   
  
"You'd think you'd be a little happier to be in good health."  
  
"You'd think so, wouldn't you, Bling?" Logan said, frowning. He supposed he should be happy to be alive   
and healthy – he was, really. But he wasn't naïve. The chances that he'd actually been in the clutches of   
Manticore without suffering any consequences was just too…  
  
And then suddenly he realized something that eradicated all of his other thoughts.  
  
"Oh, my God…"  
  
Max watched Logan's face go from neutral to something else so fast she didn't know what happened. One   
minute he looked fine, and the next he was gripping the hand she'd slipped in his. And gripping rather   
hard, actually.   
  
"What? What is it?" Behind her, Bling and Zack tensed.  
  
"My legs!" Logan exclaimed. "My legs…"  
  
When he'd first woken up, Logan's senses of sight and sound weren't the only ones impaired. His whole   
body had felt numb and heavy – which was rather frightening for someone who'd come out of a shooting   
with similar sensations before. Only before the numbness in his legs had continued. Russ had assured him   
that this wasn't the case now – this shooting wouldn't have damaged his spine any further nor would it   
have impeded the recovery of his legs in any way. But now that he'd woken up for the second time, other   
than a brief relieved acknowledgement that Russ had been right, Logan hadn't really thought about any of   
that. The numbness in the upper half of his body had receded, and he'd grown used to not paying the lower   
half any attention. Only it had his undivided attention now.   
  
'Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God…'  
  
"Logan? Logan, what's wrong?" Max was really getting worried now. Logan just sat there, staring at   
where his legs lay beneath the bed covers.  
  
"Logan?" Bling asked.  
  
Logan just shook his head. And then…he laughed. Oblivious to everything but his sudden discovery;   
forgetting about all his past thoughts, about all the questions that were rolling around his head, Logan   
laughed. He was grinning like a madman. And, standing a step back from the scene, Zack released a slow   
breath. Cale had lost it. He'd really lost it.  
  
Only he hadn't. Max felt a new wave of panic begin to well up within her at Logan's reaction, but when he   
looked at her and her eyes met his all that disappeared. The blue in his eyes was now electric, and the   
emotion she saw there was entrancing.  
  
"My legs! I can feel my legs!"  
  
"What!" Even Zack was startled by this little announcement. Max and Bling had similar reactions.  
  
"Logan…"  
  
But then Logan was throwing off the bed covers, sitting up.  
  
"Move back, Max."  
  
"What…"  
  
"Move back!" The laughter and excitement in Logan's voice was irresistible, and Max found herself taking   
a few steps back, even as Bling was stepping forward, ready to catch Logan if he fell.  
  
Logan carefully swung his legs over the side of the bed…and stood. And he didn't fall.  
  
You couldn't have cut the silence in that room with a chainsaw.  
  
And then the silence was broken.  
  
Logan was simultaneously laughing and yelling as he scooped Max up into a hug unlike any she'd ever   
received before, swinging her around on legs that hadn't stood on their own now for far too long. After a   
moment, Max realized that her own laughter had joined his. She couldn't believe it. And she couldn't   
deny that there was a definite stinging at the back of her eyes at seeing Logan like this. At seeing his   
greatest hope fulfilled. At seeing her greatest hope fulfilled. For that moment, all the questions and   
concerns disappeared. And the mystery of what had happened to Logan seemed more like a miracle.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
To be continued…  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
A/N: Okay, this was the hardest chapter to write so far. Mostly because I know absolutely no medical   
terms that could have made Russ Sean's diagnosis sound a little more believable. Also because this chapter   
contains the weirdest plot development yet. So feel free to tell me it sucked, but please include a few   
constructive hints along with your flames. (Oh, and if that last line seemed a little too sappy for   
you…sorry. I really didn't know how else to end it.)  



	4. Chapter Four

"The Gift of Darkness"  
by pari106  
pari106@hotmail.com  
http://www.geocities.com/pari106/damain.html  
  
  
Code: M/L  
Rating: PG-13  
  
A/N: Thanks to everybody for all the feedback! Sorry this update took so long!  
  
  
  
Chapter Four  
  
Whenever Max hopped on her Ninja and blazed across Seattle, she felt all her worries and fears drift to the   
very back of her mind. She became lost in the feel of the wind whipping past her, the hum of the engine   
beneath her. While she was on her bike she was free, and the bitch called life couldn't touch her. Not   
while she was in flight – and she really knew how to make her baby fly.  
  
Today might not have been different from any other. She might have been able to just jump on her bike   
and let everything else disappear. Might have…if thoughts of Logan weren't so heavy that even her Ninja   
wasn't powerful enough to lift them away. As it was, the ride went a little slower. Her mind went a little   
faster – struggling with all of the strange thoughts and nagging questions that were rumbling around inside   
of her. And it was just as well – she wasn't on a joyride. She was off to find the object of her thoughts   
right now.  
  
After the initial elation that accompanied Logan's "miraculous" recovery, Max had mixed emotions. He'd   
gotten what he'd wanted – to walk again. But at what price? How could Manticore have done this for   
him? More importantly – why? And what would happen next? Not just for Logan, but for her and Logan.   
She knew by now that she was more to him than just a pair of legs for Eyes Only, but how much more?   
Would he let her help him if he needed it? He was stubborn enough without his legs – always wanting to   
do things on his own, never wanting to let anyone in. He took too many unnecessary risks; was too   
damned sure of himself. How much worse would that reckless noble streak of his become now that he   
wasn't just better, but better than ever before? Max didn't know how to handle all of this.  
  
And neither did Logan.  
  
"What?" he'd asked, incredulous, when Max had hinted at what she thought had happened. Logan was still   
being examined by Bling at that time.  
  
…earlier that day…  
  
Max took a deep breath, then kind of winced.  
  
"Sounds wack, huh?"  
  
Logan just kind of laughed.  
  
"Well, do *you* have a better idea?" None were forthcoming. "Exactly," Max said. Then there was   
silence. "So…"  
  
"So?" Logan prompted.  
  
"So what comes next?" Logan got that thoughtful look in his eyes that always drove Max mad. But Zack   
was the next one to speak.  
  
"So now we get both your heads examined," he said, looking from them to Bling. The other man just   
shook his head.  
  
"I don't know," is all he said.  
  
"Well I do. No way Manticore would go through all the trouble of suping up someone's DNA unless it   
suited their purpose."  
  
"Maybe that's what they had in mind," Logan said. "Maybe they just didn't get to that before Jack and I   
escaped."  
  
Zack just looked at him. "Yeah, maybe."  
  
"What's that supposed 'ta mean?" asked Max.  
  
"Maybe they didn't get around to it…but maybe they did."  
  
Silence.  
  
"Zack, that's bullshit. We checked Logan for bugs and tracers. He's clean."  
  
Max saw what he was trying to say and she didn't like it. She looked at Logan, expecting him to defend   
himself, but Cale just remained quiet.  
  
"What, you think Logan's working for Manticore now?" she asked anyways.  
  
"I didn't say that."  
  
"Yeah, well…"  
  
And then a phone rang in the background.  
  
"I'll get that," Bling said, and rushed off, leaving the others to argue amongst themselves. A few moments   
later he came back.  
  
"Logan…it's Russ."  
  
Logan headed to the computer room with Max and Zack trailing behind, involuntarily smiling at how good   
it felt to just get up and walk to wherever he wanted to go. His smile disappeared, however, when he came   
upon his computer screen. Something was wrong. Russ wasn't on the line he'd used before, and it looked   
like he was using a signal scrambler.  
  
He obviously didn't want someone to know he was making this call.  
  
"Russell, what's wrong?" he asked as soon as he picked up.  
  
Over the line came the younger man's laugh. "Quick, aren't you, Logan? Now what tells you something's   
wrong?"  
  
"People don't use signal scramblers for social calls."  
  
"No I don't suppose they do. Listen, Logan…somebody's torched the lab."  
  
Logan sat up straighter in his seat. He exchanged a look with his companions when he asked, "Someone   
torched your lab?"  
  
"Of course, my lab. What other bloody lab could I be bloody well talking about?" His words were   
anything but cheerful, but there was no real heat in his tone. Something like this was just a setback, really   
– he had the funds and connections to be back in business in a matter of days. And he wasn't worried about   
anyone being on his tail – he had moves. But the fact that someone felt the need for arson, anyhow, did not   
bode well for Logan. The trucks that had been seen leaving the area were the same that he'd seen on t.v.   
when Logan had been captured a week ago. "Listen," he was saying, "I can't get you those blood tests as   
soon as I'd hoped. But as soon as I get set up somewhere I'll let you know."  
  
"No, hey…" Logan said, guilt and concern in his voice. "Don't worry about that. Just lay low for a   
while."  
  
But on the other end of the line, Russ just shook his head.  
  
"Uh-uh. Someone's going through a lot of trouble to keep me out of this, so that's exactly what I shouldn't   
do."  
  
Over Logan's shoulder, Bling shook his head. "No good, man. Manticore's onto you."  
  
"If that were true, do you really think you'd be receiving this call from the privacy of Logan's nice   
penthouse?"  
  
The simple statement caused everyone on the other end of the line to still. He had a point. If Manticore   
was that fast, wouldn't they be beating down the door right now?  
  
"It could just be a coincidence," Zack muttered.   
  
"That's an awful big coincidence, don't you think?" Logan asked in response, causing his companions to   
stare at him in surprise.  
  
"What?" Bling asked, while Zack and Max said nothing. Apparently Logan's hearing really had improved.   
Zack was standing on the totally opposite end of the room.  
  
Logan didn't seem to notice. He didn't' like putting anyone else in danger, but Russ was right – there was   
something strange going on and it all revolved around what had been done to him. Why else would the   
same guys who grabbed him go after Russ' lab? And why hadn't they tried to get him again? They   
weren't going to get the answers to these questions by playing it safe.  
  
"Okay, Russ, tell me what you've got when you get it, but be careful…is there any way they can trace the   
lab to you?" Logan assumed Russ had developed his medical practice the same way he had built the   
informant net…in secret.  
  
"Nah, I'm good. I wouldn't be calling if I wasn't…you know I've got a family to watch out for now."  
  
Logan nodded.  
  
"Okay. I'll be going to ground after this. Our friends in the big, black jeep haven't come back for a   
reunion yet, but I'm not taking any chances. You can still reach me on my cell, though."  
  
"Alright," Sean answered. "Watch your back, Logan."  
  
Then the call ended. Logan turned back to the others.  
  
"So…if I *am* X5 now…where's the last place Lydecker thinks I'd be?"  
  
Zack had scowled, but Max had smiled.  
  
Now Max had Logan a place to hide out for a while…and just needed to find Logan to tell him so.   
Unfortunately, however, Logan had chosen today to run off to God-knows-where, alone and unarmed.  
  
' "going to ground", my ass,' Max thought, but smiled again. Logan had just gotten his legs back. She   
should have known he wouldn't waste them sitting around the penthouse all day.  
  
  
  
  
Seattle's a big city, and if she had to search it all day, Max probably would have been pretty pissed by the   
end. But Logan knew better than to stray far outside of Sector Nine. Max found him in a park, believe it or   
not, sitting in a tree. She gave him a strange sort of look, but after a moment's thought followed after him.  
  
He heard her coming before she'd shimmied up past the first branch – it was a pretty tall tree.  
  
"Hey," he greeted, waiting for her to climb beside him. She did and said, "Hey, yourself." Their usual   
greeting.  
  
And then silence.  
  
And finally Logan spoke.  
  
"You hear that, don't you?" he asked, surprising her. Max frowned.  
  
"Hear what?"  
  
"Everything." Logan turned to her and smiled, before turning back to Seattle. She loved that smile. It was   
bold, so bright. Logan never held anything back…except when it came to what he considered his weaker   
emotions. He didn't look weak now. He looked ready to take on the world. To Logan, there was a whole   
new world to take on now.  
  
"You know, the people, the birds, traffic. You hear that? Those bells?"  
  
Max paused, listening, then nodded. Yeah, she did. She never really thought about it, though.   
  
"I know that sound," Logan was continuing. "There's this church on the other side of the Sector…the other   
side, Max! I'd know the sound of those bells anywhere…the church wasn't far from the hospital."  
  
Max didn't have to ask which hospital. She knew. Knowing gave the conversation a suddenly serious   
tone.  
  
"They have a distinctive ring," Logan said quietly. Max just watched him, wanting so badly to reach over   
to him that she could barely resist it.  
  
Then Logan shrugged it off and gestured to the people walking about below.  
  
"And that," he said. "That scruffing type sound down there?"  
  
Max laughed, then listened.  
  
"What, the sound of people walking?"  
  
Logan smiled and nodded.  
  
"Footsteps." Then, at Max's confused expression. "Max, not everyone can hear the the scuff of tennis   
shoes from about…twenty yards away, from seven feet up a tree, on a noisy afternoon in the middle of   
Seattle."  
  
Max raised an eyebrow. "Oh."  
  
Logan laughed. "Forget it…it's silly."  
  
"No," Max said the one syllable with such force it startled them both. "It's not silly. It's new. That's   
cool." She really didn't want him to feel uncomfortable about sharing with her. She shrugged. "I guess   
sometimes I just…take things for granted, you know?"  
  
"Yeah…" Logan looked at her. "A little too well," he said, and Max felt caught in those blue eyes of his;   
eyes that were looking at her now, serious and intent.  
  
That look made her forget all about living arrangement and footsteps.  
  
Logan scooted a little closer her direction on the branch.  
  
"Guess I've been taking some things for granted for too long…like the fact that you'd be there beside me   
when I woke up."  
  
Max's heartbeat began to pick up.  
  
"I didn't just dream that, did I?" he asked and Max knew what he was talking about, though it surprised   
her. He remembered – when she sat there beside him, back at the penthouse, holding his hand and willing   
him to be okay. He remembered.  
  
She just shook her head.  
  
And knew that he wasn't just referring to her sitting there and holding his hand – he meant all of it: the way   
she'd looked at him, the way she'd spoken to him. The way she loved him…did he mean that, too? Did he   
know?  
  
"Why'd you do that, Max?" he asked her. "After the way I pushed you away…"  
  
Max's laugh was sharp. "I think I was the one doing the pushing, Logan."  
  
Logan conceded that point, but he also had one of his own. "I let you," he told her.  
  
And Max did what she'd wanted to do for a long time now – she reached out and touched him. Simple,   
gentle; she just placed the palm of her hand on his cheek, and he immediately turned into it, planting a kiss   
there that burned into her skin. He placed his hand over hers.  
  
"Logan, I *needed* to push you away," she said. "Or at least, I thought I did…it's not like you abandoned   
me, or something, just because you gave me a little space. I needed a little space to deal with the shit that's   
been going down in my life lately."  
  
"Do you need that much space now?" he asked.  
  
It was one of those moments where everything just seemed charged with the emotions that were radiating   
from Max and Logan; the chemistry. They were just inches apart; so close. She looked into his eyes – so   
blue; he was wearing another pair of glasses, like the ones she said had made him look "sexy and   
intellectual". The side of his face was rough underneath her hand with stubble, and Logan gazed into her   
dark eyes, then down at her soft lips as though fascinated.   
  
His question was an opening, and Max knew it. There was a whole lot of meaning behind those few words,   
and her answer was the one they'd both been running from for over a year now. They weren't running any   
longer.  
  
"It gets lonely," she said, "…pushing people away all the time."  
  
She scooted even closer to him, smiling now through the nervous heat that had taken over her. If she   
hadn't known better she would have sworn she was in another one of her cycles – the temperature in that   
tree had just risen a good several degrees. But as she'd said once before…this wasn't Manticore, this was   
her. And Logan.  
  
"I know the feeling," he was saying. He came closer. They were sitting thigh-to-thigh now, facing one   
another.  
  
He was still holding her hand with one of his own, and was now gently caressing the side of her face with   
the other. It was driving Max mad.  
  
"I'm tired of space," she said, and Logan smiled. Their voices had been getting lower and lower as their   
heartbeats had become louder. Now he was barely whispering to her.  
  
"Highly overrated," he quipped.  
  
And then he leaned in and kissed her.  
  
And their branch broke.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
With the brand of luck – or lack thereof – characteristic to their lives, Max and Logan's romantic moment   
quickly turned into a would-be life-threatening one. Would-be, that is, if neither of them had had the   
reflexes of an X5.  
  
As it was, when the bough broke, sort of speak, down came Max, Logan, screams and laughter and all…  
  
…and they landed straight on their feet, much to the slack-jawed awe of bystanders nearby.  
  
Then they got the hell out of there.  
  
  
  
  
At a safe distance from their audience, Max and Logan collapsed to the ground underneath a tree, still   
laughing like mad people.  
  
"That just figures," Logan finally said, between laughs, when he began to recover himself.  
  
"It does, doesn't it?" Max said, looking over at him.  
  
She was torn between amusement over the situation and frustration over the lost kiss. And unbidden the   
thought came to her mind: 'There's no branch to break here.' But she shrugged it off with a sigh.  
  
'Get a grip, girl,' she told herself. 'Logan needs to straighten out the dealio with him and Manticore before   
you go jumpin' the boy's bones.'  
  
She shook her head, telling herself it was for the best. And not believing it one bit.  
  
"Anyway…why don't we go check out Eyes Only's new crib?" she asked.  
  
Logan was looking at her strangely – the same way she'd been looking at him, she imagined. Then he   
smiled, rising and offering her a hand.  
  
"Lead the way," he said. And they headed for Logan's new place of residence.  
  
  



	5. Chapter 5

Gift of Darkness  
by pari106  
pari106@hotmail.com  
http://www.geocities.com/pari106/damain.html  
  
Disclaimer: See Prologue or Chapter One  
  
Rating: PG-13, to be safe.  
  
Summary: (You know the drill by now). Part 5: Zack's thoughts on everything going down so far.  
  
A/N: Once again, thanks for your reviews! I'm glad y'all seemed to like the last installment. Hope you   
like this one, as well! And I realize that, as a self-proclaimed M/L fan, this little bit of M/Z-type angst is   
out of character. But I like Zack...I really do. He's no Logan, but he's cool. Couldn't go and neglect him   
here, could I? Anyways…just read.  
  
A/A/N: Oh…and, remember, these are *Zack's* thoughts, okay? M/Lers, please don't flame me for them!   
(I burn easy).  
  
  
  
  
  
Gift of Darkness, part 5  
  
Ghosts.  
  
Running through the halls. Running through his brain, giving chase.  
  
Shadows on the wall and Ben. Brinn. Tinga.   
  
Doctors and needles and blood.  
  
And Max…her lovely eyes wide as he slowly choked the life from her, tightening his grip around her   
smooth throat…tighter…tighter…feeling her windpipe begin to give way beneath…  
  
"No!"  
  
With a ragged scream, Zack woke up.  
  
The nightmares were over. Again.  
  
"Son of a …"  
  
Zack sat up on his cot, breathing hard, running fingers through longish blonde locks of disheveled hair. He   
ran a hand over the stubble on his chin. Then he cursed again.  
  
"Goddam…  
  
Then he put his fist through the wall.  
  
Zack pulled back his arm, bringing a shower of shattered drywall with it.  
  
"Damn it!"  
  
And then he finally began to calm down.  
  
'Nightmares. Fucking nightmares.'  
  
Zack rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and began to focus.  
  
'Nightmares…"  
  
…that he'd had for too long. Nightmares that he'd somehow managed to overcome in this last month.   
Nightmares that had returned with a vengeance.  
  
'Yet another reason to thank my good friend, Logan Cale,' he thought.  
  
"The bastard," he mumbled aloud, without any real heat. Then he grimaced at the sight of the hole he'd   
just made in the wall.  
  
The landlord would throw a real shit fit over that one. Zack shrugged.  
  
As if he cared. The place was a dump anyways. Then Zack sighed.  
  
He continued to stumble towards the bathroom in his little, run-down dive. And continued to list in his   
mind the reasons he hated Eyes Only. And the reasons he didn't.  
  
Splashing water on his face, the truth surfaced. Zack felt guilty.  
  
'Screw that,' he thought. But it was true – he felt guilty. He told himself he didn't have anything to feel   
guilty about, but he did.  
  
He shouldn't have let Max in on his suspicions about Logan and Manticore.  
  
She had enough to worry about already. After having seen Tinga…and now her boyfriend gets a genetic   
upgrade, Manticore style. Zack's jaw clenched. Not that he didn't really believe that that was what   
happened – he believed it all right. It wasn't that he didn't give Cale any credit – he did. Grudgingly. He   
was actually a pretty good guy – he supposed – if you took away the danger he was putting Max in just by   
keeping her around. And he was stronger than Zack had thought – he'd proven that. But no human, no   
matter how strong, could hold up against Manticore. Zack had first hand experience with the truth of that.   
He was X5, and even he had almost crumbled the last time Lydecker had him. He didn't put much faith in   
the idea that Logan had held out where he had faltered. Or maybe he just didn't want to put faith in it.   
Either way, he didn't consider it likely. And he *knew* Logan's escape was just too good to be true. He   
knew Manticore – or whoever Lydecker had working on his side – had picked him up for a purpose. He   
knew it.  
  
Still, he shouldn't have let Max know it. And he felt guilty about that.  
  
But mostly, he shouldn't *want* his suspicions about Logan and Manticore to be true. But he did. And his   
guilt over that bit like a bitch.  
  
Zack sat down at the breakfast table where he never ate breakfast, and stared at the spot where he'd never   
set a breakfast dish.  
  
It bit like a real bitch.  
  
Zack shook his head.  
  
Again, it wasn't that he hated the guy that much. He didn't. But if there were any possibility of him liking   
Cale, he didn't acknowledge it. Mostly because doing so would lead to the acknowledgement of why he   
didn't let himself like the guy in the first place. And that was a place Zack didn't like to go.  
  
But he was going there now.  
  
Guilt required it.  
  
His itching conscience required that he examine his feelings and what they meant and why. It wasn't a   
practice with which he was familiar. He was a soldier. He didn't analyze. He'd like to say that he didn't   
feel, but since he was in the self-honesty mode, he supposed that excuse was pretty much blown to hell.   
  
He did feel. For Max.  
  
Therein lay the reason for everything.  
  
She was the reason he disliked Cale. Disliked the looks she gave the other man, the way she stuck by him   
every day, through everything. The way she so easily agreed to doing things his way, when she'd never   
been able to tolerate the thought of doing things the way Zack did them. The way she doted on him. The   
way he made her weak like nothing else could. She was the reason Zack stuck around Seattle, even when   
he knew it wasn't safe. Even while he kept telling her it wasn't safe. He stuck because of Max. Because   
he felt for her. And not like a brother.  
  
Zack sighed again, and lay his hands flat on the table to keep from pounding something again.  
  
He hated feeling the way he did, but he couldn't help it. How could he help it? He couldn't just forget   
about it, forget about her, and move on. He'd tried before. He'd told her about it before.  
  
"How could I forget anything about you?" he'd told her once.  
  
And he couldn't. Not then, and not now.  
  
Not ever. He supposed it had always been like this for him; he'd always had a soft spot for Max. Even   
back at Manticore, he'd have risked anything, even then, for her. Would have indulged her any way he   
could – like that balloon, for example. He'd have done anything for her. He already had. He'd followed   
her, protected her. He had never given her his contact number mostly so he'd have an excuse to stick close   
by and keep an eye on her.  
  
Logan Cale wouldn't have followed her.  
  
He wouldn't have been able to. Until now.  
  
Logan Cale had never protected her.  
  
Sure, he liked to think so. He tried. But in the end associating Eyes Only with Max only ended up putting   
her into more danger than she was already in. He didn't have what it takes to take care of Max – not the   
way Zack does. Or at least he didn't…until now.  
  
And now all the tired excuses Zack had used to comfort himself, to convince himself that Max and Logan   
would never *really* be together…now they were all gone. Logan didn't have crippled legs and a crippled   
psyche to keep from chasing Max if she ever decided to leave him. He no longer had to let Max be the one   
fighting all the bad guys.  
  
And Max loved him. If Zack wasn't certain of it before, he was now. The way she'd been looking at Cale,   
when they'd first gotten him back in the penthouse…she loved him. It ate a hole the size of a fist right   
through Zack's heart to even think it, but it was true. Max loved Logan, not Zack. Not the way he wanted   
her to. And she wasn't any safer for loving the guy now, either. If anything, Zack imagined Cale's new   
lease on independent life would only make him more reckless, more "heroic". It was even a worse idea for   
Max to stay with him now than ever. And she loved him anyways.  
  
And even if Zack's suspicions were correct…would she love him then?  
  
Would she be able to do what had to be done if it came to choosing between Logan and herself?  
  
Zack laughed, a tight, bitter little laugh. He knew the answer to that. She'd already made the choice,   
hadn't she? The day he and Tinga had left for Canada, she'd known there was a very good chance of   
getting caught if she stayed with Logan. But she did anyway. She chose Logan over herself. Over Zack.   
She just kept on choosing him.  
  
And that's why a little part of Zack wanted his suspicions to be true. Wanted Logan out of the picture.   
Wanted Max to be safe. Wanted Max to be with him.  
  
Because Logan didn't really love her, not the way he did. How could he? He didn't even understand her;   
not really. He didn't really need her – that was what really ate at Zack. Logan Cale, for all his humanity,   
had always been stronger than him in that respect. He didn't really need Max. If something happened to   
her, yeah, he'd mourn. But he'd live. Zack wouldn't – he was sure of it. Just the thought of losing her   
destroyed him. He *needed* Max, not Logan.  
  
And Max needed Cale. It was as simple as that. He needed Max, but she needed Logan. And that's why   
Zack felt guilty for his feelings.  
  
Sighing, Zack finally pushed back from the table, grabbed his leather jacket, and got ready to blaze.  
  
The only way to deal with those feelings would be to find out what the hell Lydecker had done, already,   
and why.  
  
Zack looked down at a scrap of paper he pulled from his pocket – it was the note Max had written him with   
Logan's new temporary address. He was going to be staying with a friend of hers, apparently.  
  
Zack read the name on the slip with skepticism.  
  
"Sketchy?" Zack frowned. "Who the hell would name their kid Sketchy?"  



	6. Chapter 6

Gift of Darkness  
bypari106  
pari106@hotmail.com  
http://www.geocities.com/pari106/damain.html  
  
Disclaimer: See Prologue or Chapter One  
  
Rating: PG-13, to be safe.  
  
Summary: (You know the drill by now). Logan meets his new roommate.  
  
A/A/N: Okay, I don't really know where Sketchy lives. So I made it up. And I'm not so great with the   
Jam Pony characters, but I tried, so humor me.  
  
  
  
  
Gift of Darkness, part 6  
  
  
  
"No," Logan was saying…  
  
…at the same time that Max was continuing to pull him along towards their intended destination.  
  
"Come on, Logan," she said.  
  
"But, Max, this is…it's…"  
  
What was it, exactly? The stench? The unappealing look of the place? Logan tried to organize his   
thoughts on exactly why this could not be the temporary residence Max had found for him. All he could   
think was 'Ugh.'  
  
"It's not your usual kind of crib. I know," Max deadpanned. 'Don't smile, girl. Don't smile,' she warned   
herself. She smiled.  
  
Logan gave her a sharp look.  
  
"It's not that. It's just…just…"  
  
Ugh. That was what it was.  
  
Logan shook his head and sighed. What was he bitching about? These were the sort of living conditions   
the majority of the US population endured today. And if he were aspiring to be the savior of that group, did   
it make sense that he cringe at the prospect of living down here, away from his sterile penthouse and high-  
tech conveniences? No, it didn't.  
  
And, no, he told himself, he wasn't being petty. He wasn't being squeamish. He didn't care where he   
lived, or how, if it meant being able to carry on his mission in safety. But that had been the whole purpose   
of going to ground – to be safe. Ugly but safe he could do.  
  
This place was just ugly.  
  
And there were people everywhere. Beady-eyed, shifty-looking people that didn't look at all safe. He'd   
been hoping for some place a little more secluded.   
  
The fact that this place wasn't probably wouldn't have bothered him at all if Max hadn't been there. If it   
weren't for Max, the stench of the place, the sight of it…none of it would have really bothered him that   
much. But with Max there…Logan caught a large, filthy, bear of a man giving Max a look he didn't like at   
all. He unconsciously took a step closer to her and gave the man a glare that could have injured someone   
civilized.  
  
Max rolled her eyes.  
  
And Logan tried to remind himself of the same old tune they'd been singing since he'd met her…she's a   
big girl, she can take care of herself…Screw that. Yeah, she could take care of herself, but he didn't like   
testing that fact. And he'd always accepted that from Max as an excuse to keep herself from being   
coddled; he'd accepted it because he had to. Because the thought of her running off and facing Manticore,   
alone, scared him even worse than her staying with him and facing Manticore by his side. Because even   
though he wanted nothing more than to coddle her, she was a big girl. She could take care of herself. So   
he accepted it. But he'd never liked it.  
  
And now he didn't necessarily have to. It wasn't like this was her place they were going to, right? Surely   
they could find somewhere else…  
  
"Look, Max…I appreciate your finding this place for me, really, but…," Logan began.   
  
"Uh-huh," she threw over her shoulder. And then they were there, at the door to his new apartment. She   
threw open the door and Logan saw a man standing on the other side – tall, thin, with dark, disheveled hair   
and a smile.  
  
"Hey, roomie! Wuz up?" the man asked. Sketchy held up a hand for a high-five.  
  
Logan just stared at it. Then he looked at Max.  
  
"I'm staying with Sketchy?"  
  
"You're staying with Sketchy," Max told him, and smiled again. "Someone's gotta keep an eye on you   
while I go give my boo the heads up. Bling's gonna be over later, right?"  
  
Logan nodded.  
  
"Well, don't you two go anywhere till I get back from Original Cindy's." Max slapped him on the back.   
"Till then, why don't you and David here get to know each other better." Then she skipped out before   
Logan could stop her.  
  
That left just him and Sketchy in the apartment. Alone.  
  
Logan tried to smile. "Uh…hi."  
  
"Hey," Sketchy replied, not offended in the least by the other man's apparent lack of enthusiasm. If he was   
Mr. Money Bags, and he was in the same situation, he supposed he wouldn't be too enthused, either.  
  
Sketchy shifted uncomfortably.  
  
"Max…uh, told me. About your problem," he said.  
  
Logan looked up from trying to find an unsoiled surface on which to sit. That certainly had his attention.  
  
"She did?" he asked, beginning to frown. Staying here was putting Max's friend in enough jeopardy   
without actually filling him in on all the sordid details. Logan thought that she would have discu…  
  
"Uh, yeah," Sketchy continued. "You know I'm cool with that, right? I mean, no problem. It…you know,   
it … happens."  
  
Logan frowned harder. "It does?"  
  
"Yeah. I mean, it's happened to me. Of course, with me, there was no ex-wife, but I feel your pain, man."  
  
Logan shook his head. "What?"  
  
"I didn't even know you and the ex were like that. Especially with a girl like Max around, know what I   
mean."  
  
Logan sighed, falling into the nearest chair. He was afraid to know what Sketchy meant.  
  
"But, I have to say…that thing with the sister? Man, that just ain't smart."  
  
'I don't want to know…I don't want to know…'  
  
Who the hell was he kidding? Logan wanted to know.  
  
"Sketchy…what did Max tell you was my problem?"  
  
  
  
**** ****  
  
  
  
Max smiled. Just thinking about the conversation that was no doubt occurring at Sketchy's right now made   
her smile.  
  
Served him right.  
  
That morning, when Max had needed a plausible excuse for why Logan had to crash at Sketchy's, she'd   
just been in a really fucked up mood. She'd had a lot on her mind. That's why she'd given Sketch that   
lame ass story. But now she figured all was fair.  
  
Served Logan right for messing with her nerves the way he always did. That near kiss in the park still had   
Max feeling like she was in an early heat. And he hadn't even broken a sweat.   
  
She could just imagine the look on Logan's face when Sketchy told him why he was "really" shacking up   
with her Jam Pony pal.  
  
It almost made all the pent up sexual frustration she was feeling worth it.  
  
Almost.  
  
"So let me get this straight…" Original was saying. She and Max were chilling on the couch in their   
apartment.   
  
After an emotional reunion (Max had hardly left Logan's penthouse since he'd disappeared)…along with a   
good ass chewing from Original for not keeping in touch…followed by a long list of reprimands for her   
"bad boo" behavior (pissing off Normal by missing work, nearly getting herself shot on several separate   
occasions)…the two friends finally sat down to talk.   
  
"Let me get this straight. First I find out my boo's a genetically engineered super soldier. Now you tellin'   
me my boo's boy got all that "super soldier" shit coded into his DNA, too. Logan?"  
  
Max nodded.  
  
Original Cindy sighed into her cup of coffee.  
  
"Girl, can't you ever just come in here and tell me you been shackin' up with loverboy? No guns, no thugs   
hyped up with South African what-ya-ma-call-its, no smackdowns on no international smugglin'   
rings…You know, normal shit?"  
  
Max smiled and shrugged.  
  
"Sorry. Guess I should keep things more boring, huh?"  
  
Original sighed again, but she threw an arm around Max's shoulders to take the edge off.  
  
"Honey," she said. "Boring ain't even a part of the picture since you came to town." She smiled. And the   
next look she sent Max was searching.  
  
"So…how you handlin' it? You know, this Logan thing."  
  
Max looked away. Shrugged.  
  
"I don't know. There ain't much to handle right now. He's…fine."  
  
"And you wanna know why, right?"  
  
Max looked at her.  
  
"He can't remember anything about the escape," Max said with a frown. "And Manticore hasn't made a   
move since then. It's only been maybe a couple of days, but still…I don't know. It seems too easy for that   
to just be it. I'm just waiting for the other shoe to fall, you know what I mean?"  
  
Cindy nodded. Then she set down her coffee cop, changing the subject.   
  
"Okay, so how are you handlin' Logan?"  
  
Max just stared at her, confused. Original laughed.  
  
"Is my boo his boo, or what?"  
  
Max laughed, too. She'd almost forgotten that. That day Zack had come and they'd gone after Tinga, that   
night she'd gone to Logan and they'd finally begun to admit to their feelings for one another…she'd almost   
forgotten the talk she and Original had that day. It seemed a long time ago. It was only over two weeks   
now.  
  
"You love Logan," Original had told her, making her step up to the real on her feelings for the man.  
  
Now she felt like she'd loved him forever.  
  
Well, she had. But she'd almost forgotten that she hadn't always known that she loved him.  
  
"I don't know," she said, earning her a raised eyebrow and a look from Original. "I love him," she said, for   
the first time aloud. She felt good having said it, if for no other reason than it totally shocked her friend,   
making her laugh once more. "But I don't know."  
  
"You don't know?" Cindy asked, grinning like mad.  
  
"Yeah, you know…stuff got in the way."   
  
Manticore stuff. Life and death stuff.  
  
"Stuff, huh?" Cindy asked, mocking the ambiguous term. "So what's next?"  
  
"Well, I'm supposed to head back over there now."  
  
"To Sketchy's?" Max nodded. "I can't believe you drug Logan over to Sketchy's," Cindy said. "I'm sure   
they have lots to talk about."  
  
Original was being sarcastic, but Max laughed. "You have no idea."  
  
  
  
**** ****  
  
  
  
About a half an hour later, Bling and Logan were in Sketchy's apartment, working at Logan's laptop.   
Sketchy had gone off to…do whatever it was that Sketchy did all day long when he wasn't pestering   
Normal. And finally Logan was closing the small PC with a sigh.  
  
"Well, I think that does it. That new data encryption code Sebastian sent me should secure the net well   
enough till Eyes Only is back on the job again."  
  
"And when will that be?" Bling asked.  
  
He could practically feel Logan's restlessness, and he had to grin despite himself. Watching Logan   
struggle with disability for so long, with the new limitations on his body, with depression…made seeing   
him back on his feet again, literally, a sort of personal triumph for Bling, as well as for his friend. He could   
sense Logan's excitement. And it pleased him…even if it made him a little uncomfortable, as well. Before   
he'd come to work for Cale, he'd only thought he'd lived an interesting life. The shit he'd seen since then   
made life before seem like a PBS commercial. But this really took the proverbial cake; he couldn't help   
feeling a little thrown off and…awed by it all. And a little disconcerted. He knew Logan was still Logan –   
the friend he admired and respected, had fought for and would gladly die for. The friend he'd supported   
and had threatened into not giving up on himself. The guy that had helped put countless criminals where   
they belonged, away from society, and the guy who had changed clothes six times one night for a dinner   
with Max he had claimed repeatedly had NOT been a date.  
  
Logan was the same guy. But he was also something more now. And Bling was torn between eyeing him   
warily, and asking him to show off a few of his new "super powers". It made Bling laugh self-  
deprecatingly at the childishness of it, but he really was curious about just what a difference all this DNA   
manipulation the X5s kept talking about really made.  
  
And he could tell Logan was curious, too. Before Bling had arrived, after Sketchy had left, he'd been   
occupying himself with lifting various sized pieces of furniture he found around the apartment. Just to see   
how strong he'd really become. Then he'd stopped. Because, sure it was damned cool to be able to bench-  
press a refrigerator, but it's a little eerie to suddenly gain that power overnight.  
  
"Whenever I can figure out what's going on with Manticore right now and put it behind me," he was   
saying.  
  
"You mean if you can figure it out and put it behind you," Bling added. And Logan smiled an   
acknowledgement.  
  
"Or whenever it becomes imperative that Eyes Only get back into action."  
  
Bling raised an eyebrow. "You mean it isn't always imperative that Eyes Only be in on the action?" he   
asked.  
  
Logan laughed. He'd become somewhat notorious for his single-minded dedication to his work. Then his   
mood sobered as he remembered a time when that dedication had almost cost him his life. More   
importantly, it had almost cost him Max.  
  
Some lessons took a long time to learn.  
  
"The world will still be broken tomorrow," he said, repeating the same words he'd told Max the night he'd   
finally begun to set aside his mission, now and again, in order to spend some time with her. "Don't hold up   
the war on my account," she'd told him. The fact that she hadn't realized that the only thing that kept him   
fighting was her, was the one thing that finally struck home to Logan how blind he'd been. He'd meant   
what he'd said to Max in the park – he'd neglected her for too long. And now that he had his new legs, and   
this new threat from Manticore,…now that he had no idea how much borrowed time he was living on, if   
any,…he didn't want to risk neglecting her any further.  
  
Even if just being with her presented another risk all of its own.  
  
"So what are you gonna do till then?" Bling asked. He looked around the apartment, only years of   
experience with delivering bad news keeping his poker face in place over his reaction to the dismal   
surroundings. "Hang around here?'  
  
He understood Logan's need to take a little time off, and he agreed with it totally. 'It's about time,' he   
thought. But he couldn't believe that time would last long. The fact that Logan had volunteered, on his   
own, without having to be dragged, kicking and screaming, to go into hiding, was, in itself, surprising.  
  
Logan glanced around at the apartment, not nearly as plain-faced about the sorry state of it. But he   
shrugged. "'Fraid so," he said. "I don't like the idea, but it would probably be best. Until I can figure out   
what Manticore's got on me, and how, I'd rather not involve any more of the informants than is absolutely   
necessary." His eyes darkened, hardened. "Not any more," he said quietly.  
  
Bling noticed the tone of voice, the change in expression, and he knew what Logan was thinking.  
  
"You're thinking about Jack, aren't you?" Logan didn't even have to answer.  
  
"Man, don't do that to yourself. In his position, you would have done the same thing. It's too bad he   
didn't make it, but you can't blame yourself for being the kind of guy people are gonna put their lives on   
the line for." Bling gave Logan a sympathetic smile. "That kind of defeats the whole purpose of the risk,   
don't you think?"  
  
Logan didn't say anything, didn't look at him. He knew Bling had a point, but he couldn't help it.   
  
"I'm not sure that's what happened," he said.  
  
"What do you mean?" Bling asked, but, again, Logan didn't answer. Instead he stood, pacing over to a   
window.  
  
He stared out of it for a while before speaking again.  
  
"I never wanted people risking their lives for me," Logan was saying. "I'm not the one people should risk   
their lives for." He shook his head in frustration, clenching and unclenching a fist before him, watching the   
tendons there stretch and retract. That morning he'd been elated over the changes that had taken place in   
him. In the park, when he was with Max, hearing and seeing the world as if for the first time, he'd felt   
content. He'd even laughed at what Sketchy had told him. He was going to have a little word with Max   
about it, but he'd laughed.   
  
But after delving back into Eyes Only's files, after remembering that things hadn't changed just because he   
had – that life was still as it had been. It was crime and death and corruption for so many people. People   
who were counting on him. People who faced crime and death and corruption every day because of their   
association with him… Logan began to come down off the cloud his new legs had propelled him to. He   
began thinking with more clarity. More clarity than he'd ever had before – not just about Max, but about   
Eyes Only, too. And the mistakes he'd made with it as well. "I was just some rich kid journalist trying to   
play the good guy," he said and frowned. "I was a joke."  
  
Then there was silence.  
  
And then Bling was the one shaking his head.  
  
"Man," he muttered. "No chair and you still whine your ass off."  
  
"What?" Logan asked, looking up.  
  
"Are you really that stupid?" Bling continued, getting angrier. "Or did all that shit Manticore did to hype   
up your eyes and ears kill all your brain cells?"  
  
Logan blinked. "What are you talking about?"  
  
"What am I talking about? Logan, what are *you* talking about?"  
  
"The war!" Logan suddenly yelled. "My own little self-appointed mission to save the world." His words   
were mocking and laced with a bitter little laugh. "The fight I've been letting every one else fight for me."  
  
Bling was incredulous. "Letting…Bullshit! You never asked…"  
  
"Of course I never asked!" Logan said. "But I let them just the same.  
  
"I let Max put her life on the line for me, over and over again. For a whole year now. Bronc's guys could   
have killed Matt that time…"  
  
Logan looked over at Bling then, a thousand apologies in his eyes. Apologies Bling didn't feel were   
necessary. But Logan gestured at his friend's arm.  
  
"You're in a sling and a cast because of me. I started Eyes Only. *I* took that risk. And then I pulled   
everyone around me into my little crusade. Put everyone else in danger, when the only one who deserves   
to get shot over my own actions…is me."  
  
Logan sighed. "And I'm still doing it now. Staying here, bringing Sketchy into this. Letting myself be   
seen with Max. Putting people in danger."  
  
"Logan, that's what being a leader is all about. Danger. Not just for you, but for the people under you."  
  
"I wasn't trying to be a leader," Logan said. "I was just doing my part to help."  
  
Bling looked him straight in the eyes.  
  
"So was Jack. And, Logan,…so was I."  
  
He leaned onto the edge of the table by which Logan was standing.  
  
"So was Max."  
  
Bling smiled, letting his irritation go. He new a part of being Logan's friend was putting up with the man's   
attacks of conscience and seeing them for what they really were: guilt. Guilt over Jack; over a lot of things.   
Guilt noone placed on Logan but himself. And another part of being Logan's friend was knowing exactly   
how to diffuse such a situation.  
  
"Stop being so full of yourself, Logan. I doubt the men and women on that informant net all signed up for   
this bitch strictly for your benefit."  
  
Logan kind of stopped and stared.  
  
"What?"  
  
"They want to help, too. That's why Matt put himself in the position of going against Bronc. That's why   
Jack gave his life to get you out of Manticore. Because they wanted to help the cause. And that means   
helping you. That's what it's all about, Logan. It's not about you letting anyone fight your fights for you.   
Because it really isn't just your fight, is it?"  
  
"I…uh…"  
  
Bling smiled. Logan glared.  
  
"I hate it when you do that," Logan finally mumbled, but a smile was slowly starting to tug at the corner of   
his lips.  
  
Then Bling laughed. He slapped Logan on the shoulder.  
  
"That's what I'm here for, buddy."  
  
But Logan's concerns still weren't assuaged.  
  
"You know what I mean, though, right?" he asked.  
  
Bling nodded. "Yeah, man, I know." He knew this whole conversation they were having had a lot less to   
do with informant nets than it did with Max.  
  
"But you know Max never would have agreed to the deal you two struck if she didn't want to help, too."  
  
"But things were different then," Logan insisted. "I didn't know that I…" He paused, then continued. "I   
want to make things right between me and Max. No more games. No more running.  
  
But what if that's exactly what I shouldn't be doing? What if Zack's right and I'm just endangering her   
more by keeping her with me?"  
  
Bling shook his head. "Okay, Logan. First off, you ain't "keeping" Max nowhere. She stays because she   
wants to stay. And second, even if you were, Max was on the run from Manticore in the first place. Who's   
to say she'd be any safer out there, alone, or with big brother mean, than she is with you? She's not exactly   
the play it safe type of girl, you know."  
  
"Yeah. But…"  
  
"But nothin'." Bling gave Logan a look. "So unless this is another lame ass way of avoiding   
commitment…"  
  
Logan laughed, but his eyes were serious as he said, "No way."  
  
Bling could tell that he meant it. Meant a lot more than he was saying. And a slow smile started to creep   
across his features.  
  
"Well alright then," he said. 'It's about time the boy figured things out for himself,' he was thinking.   
  
Then Logan straightened, his eyes going to the door as though he heard something Bling didn't. Under the   
circumstances, he probably did.  
  
"What? What is it?" Bling asked, his good hand already going to the handgun he'd stashed in his sling.  
  
Logan just waved him quiet, listening. Then he relaxed. And smiled.  
  
"It's okay," he said. "It's Max." He listened. "And Original Cindy."  
  
Bling raised an eyebrow.  
  
"Are you sure?"  
  
Logan raised one right back at him.  
  
"Have you ever heard Manticore use the phrase 'get your drink on' ?" he asked.  
  
And Bling laughed, tucking the gun away again. "I guess not."  
  
"Sounds like the girls are going to invite us down to Crash tonight," Logan told him.  
  
"Are you sure that's safe?" Bling asked.  
  
Logan smiled. "Not at all. Let's go." Then he was heading for the door before his friend could say   
otherwise.  
  
Bling shook his head. And sighed.  
  
To think…he'd thought Logan was moody before he was X5.  
  
Bling, not at all a religious man, thought, 'Lord help us all.' But he smiled as he followed Logan out of the   
apartment.  
  
  
On the other side of town, Zack was heading for the address Max had given him.  
  
  
And somewhere else, Donald Lydecker waited.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
A/A/N: Okay…it's really late as I write this. Maybe I ramble. Maybe I don't make any sense. But I want   
to get this chapter wrapped up and move on, so here it is. Review lots! It'll really speed up my updates   
(yes, that is a shameless bribe for even more reviews.) Tell me what I should do next – more action? Or   
some M/L scenes? Mushy/ sweet M/L? Sexy/steamy M/L? (I've never written one before. I'd love to try   
it out. But if you'd rather I kept the whole thing PG-13 I will) A little of both? You tell me.  



	7. Chapter 7

The Gift of Darkness, part 7  
by pari106  
  
pari106@hotmail.com  
http://www.geocities.com/pari106/damain.html  
  
Disclaimer: found in Chapter One  
  
Rating: PG-13 for language, maybe.  
  
A/N: Thanks for the feedback! I've decided to do a sexy/steamy M/L chapter, followed by one that's more   
sweet and sappy (if you skip over the first, the other will still make sense). Those are in the works. Right   
now I'll take up where I left off in Chapter 6. And, don't worry, Logan's situation will be explained   
eventually! (But not right now! ;)  
  
A/A/N: Oh, and to aegean: I liked your suggestion! I don't know if I can do it justice, but I'll try it out   
soon. Thanks!  
  
  
Gift of Darkness, part 7  
by pari106  
  
Later that night Logan found himself sitting at a table at Crash. Pre-Pulse music was blaring in the   
background; The Nelly Furtado remix of Missy Elliot's "Get Your Freak On" to be exact. Bling had been   
there earlier, but had left for home somewhere around the second round of drinks.  
  
They were now on their fourth.  
  
His friend had really hit it off with Original and Herbal. And Sketchy. Logan smiled when he thought   
about earlier that evening when he'd introduced the two. Bling hadn't known quite how to react to   
Sketchy's…unique perspective on things. Just like Logan.  
  
Logan sighed. He wished he could express how much he appreciated the other man. He'd never had such   
an honest and loyal friend. He'd never had such a friend, period. Even when Bling had left Crash, it had   
only been when Logan had sworn he'd be okay without him.  
  
Like Max, Bling had become a part of Logan's foundation. He didn't know how he could have rebuilt his   
life after the shooting without Bling. Which was one of the reasons why he'd felt so guilty for Bling   
getting shot. Was why he still felt guilty, even after their discussion on the topic. But Logan forced that   
feeling away. Bling had been right. Logan smiled – 'Bling is always right.' Beating himself up, while   
there were plenty of bad guys out there who'd love to do the job for him, was counterproductive. So Logan   
didn't linger on such thoughts.  
  
Besides, he thought, knowing Bling's uncanny sense of him, he'd sense Logan's mood and come back to   
Crash and kick his ass.  
  
Then Logan spotted Original Cindy from across the room. She and Max had gone to get refills on their   
drinks, but now Original was turning and heading back for their table early.  
  
'Good,' Logan thought. 'Maybe they changed their minds about the beers.'  
  
Then he pushed that thought away, too. The three rounds of drinks they'd just consumed wasn't sitting   
well with him. But it was just beer they were drinking, and both Max and Original looked fine. And four   
beers would hardly put Logan under the table. Besides, he didn't feel drunk, really. He didn't feel bad, he   
just…didn't feel real good. Logan shook his head. He couldn't really pinpoint what was wrong, exactly.  
  
But he shrugged. 'No matter.' And he tried recapturing his good mood of that morning. He'd been having   
a good time ever since Max had returned. And he'd be damned if he'd let a few beers ruin the evening.   
He'd just have to pass on any more alcohol and concentrate on his company.  
  
'Little problem there,' he thought then, his eyes returning to Max as she wove towards the bar.  
  
Trying to make good on that unspoken promise of his, Logan had pulled out all the stops with Max tonight.   
All the impulses he would usually have ignored – like the sudden urge to reach out and take her hand, or   
kiss her on the cheek…he suddenly stopped ignoring those. And if he got caught staring at her, a look on   
his face he knew had to be transparent, he didn't look away. They talked and laughed just like before. But   
now all the playful banter and subtle innuendo they exchanged had suddenly become a lot less subtle.  
  
Actually, Logan was a little surprised at himself. At how easy all the inhibitions fell away.  
  
'Maybe I really am drunk,' he thought, grinning.  
  
Or maybe he was in love.  
  
Logan grinned wider. Maybe he was head-over-heels, madly in love.  
  
Then he thought, 'Nah.'  
  
There was no maybe about it. He was head-over-heels, madly in love with an X5 named Max.  
  
Imagine that.  
  
Logan was still grinning like an idiot when Original reached the table. She plopped down in the seat across   
from him and gave him a look.  
  
"Damn, boy," she said. "What's got you lookin' all like the cat that ate the canary?" As if she didn't   
know.  
  
"Oh…nothing," he replied, still smiling. As if she'd believe that.  
  
"Uh-huh," Original Cindy drolled, but she couldn't quite keep her own smile some surfacing. She'd   
pegged Logan for the skittish type – like Max. The type that changed clothes six times in one night and   
then swore up and down that she did *not* have a date. Like Max. And he was. But when he finally got   
over that and let go…it was enough to make Original Cindy's pretty little head spin.  
  
"Okay, okay," she said finally. "I got it. Look, Original Cindy ain't blind, 'k? And she'd have to be not to   
see the sparks you and my boo be lightin' up in here.  
  
"I mean, don't get me wrong. I think it's cute…in its own, sugary sweet, heterosexual kinda way…"  
  
"Original…"  
  
"Uh, uh, uh," she interrupted, waving a finger in his face. "And don't you even go spouting that 'we ain't   
like that' bullshit, because if I have to listen to that one more time…"  
  
Logan laughed. And sighed. And mentally shrugged.  
  
Oh, what the hell. 'All the stops, remember, Logan?'  
  
"We're like that," he told her.  
  
And slowly Original began to smile.  
  
"Well, aiight then."  
  
Logan smiled back.  
  
"It's about time you and boo step up to the real. But look, Logan…the reason I came back here to talk to   
you…  
  
"I like you. Aiight? For a guy…you're okay."  
  
Logan laughed, and the compliment wasn't exactly glowing, but he took it seriously. This was Max's best   
friend, after all; she was to Max what Bling was to Logan. And Logan felt like he owed her the world for   
that. Max had never had a friend like her. Original was very important to Max. And if for no other reason   
than that, she was important to Logan, too.  
  
"And my boo needs you," she continued. "And I can tell you need her, too."  
  
Logan nodded, serious. "I do."  
  
Original nodded back. She meant it – she liked Logan. Owed the boy her life, she was sure, she didn't   
know how many times over. If for no other reason than he made Max smile, made her crazy. All those   
things Max did too rarely when he wasn't around.  
  
"I just gotta say this, though…" Original said. Then she looked Logan straight in the eye, keeping her   
voice low so it couldn't be overheard. "You hurt my girl…and Original Cindy gonna lay a smackdown on   
your cute, little, genetically engineered ass like you ain't never seen before."  
  
Then she smiled as if she hadn't said anything of the sort.  
  
Logan laughed. She most certainly *was* to Max, what Bling was to Logan.  
  
Then Logan shook his head. "Don't worry," he told her. "If I ever hurt Max, you'd have plenty of help."  
  
Then the topic of their conversation was back at the table, setting down their drinks.  
  
"Hey, what you guys talking about?" she asked.  
  
Logan and Original just looked at each other.  
  
"Oh, you know…stuff," Original said, jumping out of her chair before Max could react. "Mostly 'bout   
how tired Original be gettin'. Time for me to head home, get a little beauty sleep…"  
  
"But…"  
  
Original blinked at Logan when Max wasn't looking, yawned when she was, and Logan rolled his eyes. As   
she left, Original yelled over her shoulder:  
  
"Bye, boo!"  
  
…and then she was gone.  
  
Max just sat down, raising an eyebrow.  
  
"What was that…"  
  
She began to ask, but then something in the way Logan was looking at her stopped her.  
  
"I think it was about…this," he told her.  
  
And then he pulled her into a kiss.  
  
  
  
  
  
**** ****  
  
  
  
A/N: Okay…this was written kind of sloppily, so it probably sucks. And I am so not good at writing   
Original Cindy :/ Forgive me! Better stuff is till to come ( I hope! )  



	8. Chapter 8

The Gift of Darkness, part 8  
by pari106  
pari106@hotmail.com  
http://www.pari106.homestead.com/index2.html  
  
Disclaimer: See Chapter One  
  
Rating: PG-13   
  
Summary: Zack comes back looking for Logan. And finds Sketchy.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Gift of Darkness, part 8  
  
It was dark by the time Zack made it to the district Max had told him; it was the same part of town she   
lived in. Albeit a much nastier part of the same part of town that she lived in.  
  
So nasty, in fact, that when he first got there, Zack had to circle around a few times, reading and rereading   
the address, just to make sure that he'd gotten it right. When he was certain, he stopped the bike he'd   
acquired, looking at the building in front of him with true amusement shining in his eyes.  
  
*This* was Logan Cale's new crib?  
  
Maybe there was a Blue Lady, after all.  
  
Zack pulled the bike in with him, but soon realized that it would never make it up the rickety staircase to   
the floor on which Logan's apartment was located.  
  
Weighing his options, Zack looked from his bike…to the staircase…to the mean, shady-looking people   
eyeing it, and him,…to his bike…and back.  
  
Then he grabbed the nearest male by the throat and plastered him against the wall. Everyone else scattered   
away like goldfish in a Koi pond.  
  
"Look, man, I didn't…I don't…." The young man in Zack's clutches babbled quickly, asserting his   
innocence in whatever matter had gotten this unbelievably strong person angry enough to lift him straight   
off the floor. Then he realized he probably wasn't innocent at all. The guy still had his bike…so he hadn't   
stolen from him. But that didn't mean he hadn't wronged him in some way. Which one of his girlfriends   
had a blonde husband? "Oh, Lord…"   
  
Then Zack said,"Shh." He held one finger to his lips, dropped his rather scrawny, squirming captive, and   
shoved a couple of hundred dollar bills into the man's hand. Zack wouldn't have approached this guy at   
all, if he hadn't noticed him pick-pocketing the old lady standing next to him. Doing so made him less   
guilty about scaring the hell out of him.   
  
The man blinked. "Wha…what?"  
  
"There's more where that came from if you watch my bike," Zack said, gesturing to the vehicle behind   
him. "But if you don't…"  
  
Zack didn't finish. He didn't have to.  
  
He mounted the stairs to Cale's floor, smiling as he heard the other man squeak behind him.  
  
He really loved playing with the norms.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
As Zack neared "Sketchy's" apartment, however, his smile disappeared.  
  
When he'd entered the building, he'd found it funny that Logan would be living here. Mr. High-tech-  
master-chef-Eyes-Only had to just love the new accommodations. But Zack didn't find it so funny   
anymore. Truth be told, he'd obviously been spending a little too much of his time crashing at Cale's   
penthouse. Because suddenly even his admittedly modest, but livable, apartment on the other side of town   
had lost its appeal for Zack. If it had ever had one.   
  
Unbidden, Lydecker's voice came to mind. A memory of childhood flashed through Zack's brain. It had   
been a night right before one of the X5's training missions and one of his brothers…was it Jack?…hadn't   
been able to sleep. He'd gotten the bad mattress. Everybody in the barracks knew about the bad   
mattress…and they would secretly pawn it off on the next unlucky sibling anytime it had somehow ended   
up in their own living space. Nobody ever complained aloud, of course. They knew better. And it was   
probably silly amongst an army of genetically engineered super soldiers, but that mattress was about as   
comfortable to sleep on as a rock. Nobody wanted it.  
  
Usually, they'd give it to Max or Tinga. That seemed fair enough – since neither of the two girls slept   
much. But, somehow, that night it had gotten itself placed on Jack's bed. Jack, who was the lightest   
sleeper of them all. Zack used to wonder if maybe the lab had messed up and thrown some DNA from   
something nocturnal into Jack's genetic make-up; the kid just couldn't rest comfortable. Especially not on   
the bad mattress. And he had tossed and turned all night, disturbing just about everyone else in the   
barracks.  
  
They'd failed their training mission the next day.  
  
And somehow, Zack never knew how because noone, absolutely no one would have told on him, Lydecker   
was all over Jack for keeping the other "soldiers" from "performing at peak efficiency". As punishment,   
they took Jack's mattress away and he slept on the hard springs of his cot for a week.  
  
Now Zack shook his head, clearing away the unwanted recollections. The incident hadn't been without   
total benefit. When they'd finally brought Jack a mattress, it had been a new one. No more lumpy rock for   
one of them to have to sleep on.   
  
But that week of Jack's punishment hadn't been worth it, from Zack's point of view. He would have gladly   
taken the bad mattress for himself if he'd known it would have prevented that week. Because, sleeping one   
space over from Jack, Zack knew his brother hadn't slept at all for those entire seven days. Not a bit. And   
he never complained, never fidgeted. He just lay there, like a good little soldier, with his eyes closed. And   
Zack could tell, from the rate of Jack's heartbeat, and the sound of his breathing, that he was wide awake.   
He went that whole week without any sleep, and yet he'd performed even harder than any of them in their   
training activities.   
  
He was so exhausted that, when he finally did get his mattress, he slept so hard they had to slap him to   
wake him up in the morning. And ever since then Zack had been the one who didn't sleep well at night.  
  
Because even now, years later, Zack still hurt for his subordinate, his brother, lying there, eyes closed,   
suffering for the sake of perfection. He still felt an anger over how he'd been treated. Even now that he   
was dead. Asleep forever.  
  
And even now, years later, Zack could still hear Lydecker's voice in his head:   
  
"You think this is a pleasure stay, son?" the general had ranted. "You think you're a guest here? You're a   
soldier. You were designed to be a soldier; you were trained to be a soldier. And soldiers don't care about   
living conditions. Living is the only condition you need to concern yourself with, you understand me,   
mister? Not the state of your mattress. Not the state of your barracks. Not whether or not you've eaten in   
the last twelve hours, or even in the last twelve days. Living is what matters. And if a soldier lets any of   
those other things distract him from his mission, he won't live to be distracted by them again. You got   
me?"  
  
Zack sneered.  
  
'Yeah, I got you, asshole,' he thought. But despite that, he couldn't help looking at the building around   
him somewhat differently because of the little flashback.  
  
"…soldiers don't care about living conditions…"  
  
Zack didn't care about living conditions.  
  
But just to show himself, and Lydecker, that he could, he sneered again – this time at the surroundings.   
And reveled in his disgust at the place.   
  
Yeah, maybe he'd been crashing a little too often at Cale's penthouse. But maybe that was a good thing.  
  
  
  
  
  
When Zack finally reached the apartment, the door was wide open, though the lights inside were still off.   
He approached it carefully.  
  
Sure, Logan *could* be trying out his new X5 vision, wondering about in the dark – he treated his new   
abilities like a fun, new toy – but Zack didn't think so.  
  
Letting his own eyes adjust to the lack of light, Zack entered the apartment. And zeroed in on a lone figure   
on the other side of the room: a tall, thin, male who was obviously not Logan. And who was currently   
trying to access Logan's laptop computer.  
  
In a flash, Zack was across the room and had the intruder pinned against the wall in an imitation of how   
he'd greeted the young man downstairs. But this time Zack wasn't playing.  
  
"Who are you? Where's Logan and Max?" he asked, his hand around the man's throat. He was under the   
obvious impression that this person had either somehow harmed or otherwise displaced his sister and her   
boyfriend, or that he had waited until his sister and her boyfriend were gone, so that he could try and hack   
into Logan's computer. Not something Zack could allow him to do, be it that all the information anyone   
could ever want to use against the X5s was probably somewhere in Logan's computer.   
  
The man tried to choke something out, but it didn't sound like an answer.  
  
Zack dragged him up further along the wall.  
  
"All I want to hear from you are two things, understand? One, your name, and the other, a location. And if   
I don't like the ones you give me…" he flexed his fingers on the intruder's throat.  
  
Until he suddenly realized that the smaller man was turning blue. And then he lightened his grip.  
  
"I…I said…" the man began to wheeze "I said…I, I can't breathe…jeez…"  
  
Zack blinked. "Oh." And dropped the intruder, who crumpled on the floor.  
  
Sketchy rubbed at his neck. Too concerned with dragging air into his lungs to focus on the shock of the   
situation just yet.  
  
Meanwhile, Zack waited.  
  
"Where's Logan and Max?" he asked.  
  
Sketchy knew he wasn't supposed to tell anybody if they asked about Logan. But then, he was expecting   
government-looking guys or pissed-off chicks with baseball bats, or something. But this guy didn't have a   
chick with him, and government-types didn't wear beaten leather jackets. And he had one hell of a grip.  
  
"I think they're at Crash," he told Zack, without much hesitation.  
  
"Crash?" Zack asked.  
  
"Yeah, you know, the bar. Crash? Pool, beer, the occasional hot girl…but mostly pool and beer." Sketchy   
tended to ramble in moments of extreme stress. "I think they're at Crash," he repeated.  
  
And Zack just blinked again. A bar. Manticore is on their asses, Logan's just had his DNA tinkered with,   
and they went to a bar?  
  
He wasn't even going to think about it just yet.  
  
"So who are you?" he asked the man he'd nearly strangled.  
  
"I'm Sketchy."  
  
"You're what?"  
  
Sketchy stood, finally, still rubbing his neck. 'Oh, physical violence *and* insults, all in fifteen minutes.   
How nice.' Who was this guy, anyhow?  
  
"I said, I'm Sketchy. My name. It's Sketchy."  
  
Zack just stared at him. Then it clicked.  
  
"Oh, you're Sketchy."  
  
The other man nodded, giving him a little hand gesture Zack assumed was an affirmative. It had better   
have been an affirmative, or he was going to rip the cocky little prick's hand off. Then he realized he   
probably owed the apartment's owner something in the way of 'I apologize for nearly strangling you in   
your home.'  
  
"Sorry," is what came out.  
  
And, dropping into a chair, Sketchy gave the guy a look. "Sorry? You almost killed me and all you say is   
'sorry' ?"  
  
Zack rolled his eyes at the melodrama, but answered anyhow. "What, you don't think I should be sorry?"  
  
Sketchy snorted.  
  
"So… who are *you* anyhow?" he asked Zack.   
  
If the X5 took offense to being spoken to in the same tone of voice he usually used when speaking to other   
people – and he did – he tried not to show it.  
  
"I'm Zack." Then, after a pause. "Max's brother."  
  
This interested Sketchy. "A brother? Max has a brother?" He smiled. "Any sisters I should know about."   
Then his smile evaporated under Zack's threatening glower. "I guess not."  
  
Zack sighed, glancing back at the door.  
  
"If you're 'Sketchy', and this is your place, why'd you just leave the door open like that?"  
  
Sketchy shrugged. "I needed some light. It gets dark in here, you know."  
  
Zack frowned. "Don't you have electricity?" This place didn't even have electricity? Oh, that was just too   
good. But then, why was Sketchy even messing with the computer?  
  
And then Sketchy was answering, and something in his voice told Zack there was more going on here than   
he was saying.  
  
"I…uh…I just don't like using it. You know, high bills and all. Old tight-ass Normal don't pay worth a   
shit. So I thought I'd just leave the lights off…let the glow from the hallway drift in…No!"  
  
Then he screamed as Zack turned on a light. And covered his eyes. Beneath it, both his eyes were black   
and blue and red-rimmed.  
  
Zack smiled. "You got in a fight." It was a statement, not a question. Funny, he didn't even know this   
guy, but for some reason the idea of him fighting amused Zack to no end. Somehow, from Sketchy's   
demeanor, Zack sensed he deserved it.  
  
"I got in a fight," Sketchy confirmed. "So can you turn the lights off? Jesus, this hurts like hell, you   
know?"   
  
Zack sort of snorted, but he turned the lights off. 'Take a little trip to Manticore, buddy. Then talk to me   
about hell.'  
  
Meanwhile, Sketchy was still talking. "It wasn't my fault," he felt the need to clarify. "I told Sylvia…"  
  
Then Zack suddenly realized what it was that seemed most amusing about Sketchy's fight. Those bruises   
on his face looked unusually small. As though they'd been made by an unusually small fist.  
  
"You lost a fight to a woman?" he asked.  
  
"I did not lose!" Sketchy insisted. Then he sort of mumbled to himself. "I conceded."  
  
Zack laughed. He really laughed. He kind of liked this kid, after all. Then he sobered a little as he realized   
he could hardly consider getting beaten up by a girl as funny. After all, he'd fought Max. He'd let her win,   
of course, but still…it wasn't like it took much effort on his part to do so. So he stopped laughing at   
Sketchy. Although he doubted his was a case of letting anyone win.  
  
"Maybe I should introduce you to my sisters, after all," he mumbled, but when Sketchy didn't hear him   
well, and asked "What?" Zack didn't repeat himself.  
  
He turned to leave.  
  
"Hey? Hey, where are you going?" Sketchy asked, running after.  
  
"To Crash," he tossed over his shoulder. "I don't suppose you're coming?" Then Zack remembered   
something.  
  
"What were you doing on Cale's computer, anyway?"  
  
"Oh…uh, that. Yeah. Look do me a favor, and don't…"  
  
Zack just crossed his arms. "My lips are sealed," he deadpanned. And Sketchy slapped him on the   
shoulder.  
  
"Hey, thanks, man. I wasn't messin' with anything, you know, I just…" He looked around, then grinned.   
"There's not much access to the net now, everything got so fucked after the Pulse. But I hear there's this   
site. Man, the chicks on there…"  
  
Zack listened a moment more before leaving. Strike that. This guy was never getting an introduction to   
any of his sisters.  
  
  



	9. Chapter 9

Gift of Darkness, part 9  
by pari106  
  
pari106@hotmail.com  
http://www.geocities.com/pari106/damain.html  
  
Disclaimer: All established Dark Angel characters and ideas belong to Cameron, Eglee, and Fox. All I   
own is an eccentric doctor and the occasional miscreant.   
  
Rating: PG-13, as always.  
  
A/N: This is where I send out all my thanks, once again, to those of you who have reviewed – especially a   
fan and, also, Zanna. Aegean … here it is. I tried using a little of your idea. (I told you I didn't think I   
could do it justice, but…oh well, I tried. Let me know what you think. )  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Gift of Darkness, part 9  
by pari106  
  
Back at Crash, things were going well. Or at least they seemed to be.  
  
But, eventually, somehow, between "let's go back to your place" and discussions on who actually *could*   
make it there the fastest…eventually the evening took a dramatic turn.  
  
One that landed Logan flat on his ass in an alley not far from the bar they'd just left.   
  
Grumbling a little, and rubbing at what would eventually become dark bruises, he assumed, covering most   
of his lower body, Logan conceded the last point to Max.  
  
"Okay…so you *do* have better scaling abilities than I do," he told her.  
  
'Duh,' he thought. 'What the hell were you thinking?'  
  
Despite that, he was grinning. He'd just lost, and lost bad, to his…well, his girlfriend, essentially…in a   
physical contest. And he'd never enjoyed losing so much in his life.  
  
Max laughed, coming to sit down, cross-legged, next to where Logan had fallen.  
  
"All that cat DNA. Guess they didn't give you as much."  
  
Logan smiled. It was weird. He'd heard Max make off-handed references to her unusual genetics before,   
but he'd never been able to say he could truly relate. Now it was weird knowing that he could.  
  
Funny, he'd found plenty of reasons not to feel good enough for Max before. He couldn't walk, like other   
men could, therefore he couldn't protect her as well as another man might….and, if he were in the mindset,   
he supposed being a genetic super soldier could offer him even *more* inferiority complexes, if he let it.   
Crazy as that sounded. Logan could just imagine it now: He didn't have enough feline DNA as an another   
man might, nor quite as much puma….  
  
Logan broke off into something remarkably similar to giggles.  
  
"Now what?" Max asked, laughing with him. Her hand was on his chest and she could feel his sides   
shaking as he laughed. She could also feel his heart beat unusually fast. But she didn't take much notice to   
it, as she concentrated on his laughter.  
  
"Oh…nothing," he finally said. He tugged the wrist resting on his chest until Max fell across him with   
surprise. He looked up at her, completely serious.  
  
"Just thinking…thinking that maybe I shouldn't be so worried about Lydecker, after all."  
  
Max's smile died as she looked at him. She raised a brow.  
  
"Oh?"  
  
"Yeah. Maybe I should be thanking him." Then Logan sighed, shaking his head. "Maybe not. I don't   
know. The last person in this world who deserves a word of thanks, for anything, is Donald Lydecker.   
After what he did…" Logan cordially avoided mentioning Lydecker's part in Max's horrific childhood.   
"And now Jack…"  
  
Logan stared up, past Max, at the stars visible through the building tops and pollution overhead. What the   
hell was he trying to say?  
  
"I just…there's a lot, that's happened, that I can't be thankful for," he told her, looking back at her now,   
hoping she'd understand. "I've learned to be thankful for something, even a little something, when I can.   
And this…being able to walk again. The sound of footsteps." The mention reminded her of their moment   
in the park. "Those seem like things to be thankful for," he finished. "Regardless of why they came to be."   
'Or of the consequences,' he secretly thought.  
  
Max sat up. She did understand, and she brushed a lock of hair out of his face, looking at him with   
understanding. "Yeah," she said. But she couldn't quite take it further than that. There was still too much   
bad blood between her and Lydecker – literally. And Logan still didn't have any idea just what the "why"   
he mentioned entailed.  
  
"I'd hold up on the Hallmark card," she said, trying to shrug off the discomfort of hearing Lydecker's name   
spoken aloud, here, between her and Logan. Then she smiled, taking the edge off. "After all, he's the   
reason you and I are 2 to one."  
  
Logan groaned, sitting up, as well.  
  
"I can't believe you out jumped me, too," he said.  
  
Max laughed. "You did okay. And you were faster than me," she reminded, her tone of voice belying her   
words in its patronizing effect. It was fun competing with Logan, each trying to outdo the other like a   
couple of kids. It momentarily diffused the heated atmosphere that had developed between them while they   
were kissing in Crash.  
  
Granted, it was a little eerie. But it was fun, too. And exciting. Not long ago, Logan was still confined to   
his chair or the exoskeleton. Now he could run rings around her.  
  
"Yeah, I was, wasn't I?" he finally said, laughing, and Max gave him a playful slap on the arm, rolling her   
eyes. Then Logan's laughter faded away. And Max was suddenly very aware of how close they were   
sitting. Out here in the dark. Alone.  
  
"Not too fast, I hope," he finally said, bringing a hand up to the side of her face.  
  
And that peculiar rise in temperature began to take place again.  
  
Max was aware that she was the one that had sidestepped what was beginning to happen tonight. She'd   
steered the conversation away from her and Logan and into safer subjects. Like jumping contests and 100   
yard dashes. But now she wasn't quite sure why.  
  
Their faces were inches away from each other, and as they leaned in closer, Max whispered "Just fast   
enough."  
  
She leaned forward…and the next thing she knew, she was on her back beneath Logan. He'd flipped her.   
  
She laughed, even as she prepared to get up and kick his ass. But then he stopped her with a kiss.  
  
A deep kiss.  
  
And then he was the one laughing, albeit with huskiness that hadn't been there before.  
  
"So…what's this Sketchy tells me about Val and the mayor's twin-sister-mistresses?"  
  
Max practically cracked up.  
  
"Oh, yeah, that," she said, when she finally could.  
  
"Yeah that," Logan told her, trying to regain the crossness he'd felt through the first, mortifying moments   
of Sketchy's explanation of Logan's predicament. The explanation Max had given him.  
  
"Well, you know," she said, having the decency to at least look a little bit guilty. But just a little.   
"Sketchy's very possessive of his 'bachelor pad'."  
  
Logan looked absolutely serious when he said, "You're kidding."  
  
"No, it's true." Max grinned again. "I had to give him a reason to let you crash. A reason he'd   
understand. And, well, Sketchy understands woman trouble."  
  
Logan rolled his eyes. "I bet."  
  
Then he reached over, threading his fingers through her hair. "Well, I guess your explanation wasn't all   
that far off. After all, I do have a bit of woman trouble."  
  
"Oh, really?" Max asked, smiling.  
  
Logan smiled, too. "Yeah. There's this woman I can't get off my mind." But then suddenly neither of   
them were smiling anymore. "Thing is…I don't want to get her off my mind."  
  
Max reached up, touched Logan's cheek. "Doesn't sound like such a problem. At least, not one we can't   
fix."  
  
"Fix?" Logan leaned in closer. "Now how do you suggest we do that?"  
  
Then Max reached for him, just as Logan reached for her, and they were locked in a passionate kiss once   
again. This time it was one that neither one of them was going to stop.  
  
Neither one of them would have to.  
  
Because then Zack showed up.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
A/N: Don't you just hate that? :) Please review!   



	10. Chapter 10

The Gift of Darkness, part 10  
by pari106  
  
pari106@hotmail.com  
http://www.pari106.homestead.com/index2.html  
  
Disclaimer: See last chapter.  
Rating: PG-13 (probably worse, for the language)  
  
yadda…yadda…yadda…  
  
Summary: The moment M/Zers and M/Lers alike have awaited for so long (I hope): a face-off between   
Logan and Zack.  
  
A/N: Wow…this is really turning out to be a monster! And the end isn't anywhere near – I've got so   
much I want to do with the story. Am I dragging it on too long? Should I cut out some of my future ideas?   
Am I getting carried away? Let me know. Review! Review, please! Thank you.  
  
  
WARNING: Oh, and I might mention: there is some pretty rough cussing in this one. Sorry. But I just   
couldn't picture Zack getting really pissed off and yelling a few dozen "hell"s and "damn"s, coupled with   
the occasional "Gosh-darn-it!"s. And I was never very good at the whole censorship thing. Besides, after a   
while it gets annoying to see a dozen different arrangements of @, !, #, and, of course, $. So don't read this   
if you have a problem with "naughty language". E-mail me and I can send you a friendlier version of the   
story. Thanks!  
  
  
Gift of Darkness, part 10  
by pari106  
  
When they left the alley, it was hard to tell who was angry the most: Max, Logan, or Zack.  
  
If she hadn't been so involved in her own frustration, Max might have thought to question exactly why her   
brother was so ticked off in the first place. But having been interrupted in a moment with Logan, again, by   
her brother, again, Max wasn't in the mood to question. She was in the mood to break something.  
  
As for said brother, Zack starting kicking himself even before he started speaking. When he'd come upon   
the two of them, wrapped around each other, he should just have backed off. It wasn't like he had anything   
that spectacular to report to them, anyhow. But he'd been in a bad mood. Well, okay, maybe not more   
than usual. But seeing Max with Logan put him in a bad mood. Seeing the woman you're in love with in   
the arms of another man, particularly your rival, tends to do that. He didn't even know what he said he'd   
seen them, but it had been a definite mood killer and now Zack was kicking himself for it.  
  
And Logan would like to help. It wasn't his way to be confrontational. He was more the patient, live and   
let live, back off type. Even with Zack, who tried his patience more than anyone else. He backed off   
because he knew this was, really, a very young person he was dealing with. It was easy to forget just how   
young the X5s really were, but Logan did his best not to. And he also backed off because he figured if   
anyone was going to object to Zack's interferances with him and Max, it would be Max. It was her call.   
And, usually, whenever Zack interfered it was for a good reason. Logan couldn't do anything about that.  
  
But tonight's interference hadn't been for any reason, at all. What was the guy going to tell them? That he   
hadn't found anything, most likely. Otherwise he probably would have mentioned what he had found.   
And Max didn't look like she appreciated Zack's timing any more than Logan did. In fact, she looked like   
the only thing keeping her from saying something to her brother about it was the fear that she might say   
something she'd regret.  
  
Of course, one might say that another good reason for Logan's backing off from Zack in the past stemmed   
from the knowledge that Zack could literally crush the other man with one hand.  
  
But when had Logan ever let something like the fear of death stand in his way of saying the wrong thing?  
  
And even if he had, that wasn't, presumably, a problem now.  
  
So before he could really think twice about it, Logan did the unthinkable.  
  
He shoved Zack into a moving truck.  
  
Not actually in front of one, but *into* one. He, Max, and Zack were just passing the street as this large   
truck rumbled by at an unsafe speed, the large doors to its cargo hold wide open. So before he could think   
otherwise, he grabbed Zack and tossed him into the truck. It took quite a bit of effort and planning on   
Logan's part to carry it off. That truck was moving fast, and Zack wasn't a little guy.  
  
The only thing that really made the whole fiasco work was the fact that the other X5 hadn't been expecting   
to be tossed onto a moving vehicle by Logan Cale.  
  
Then Logan jumped in afterwards. He would undoubtedly hear from Max about the stupidity of his   
actions. And he'd undoubtedly regret acting without telling her what he was going to do, running off   
without her. But he had something to do and he had to do it alone.  
  
He had to have a little talk with Zack.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
For the most part, Zack was amused. He was livid, but amused. The whole situation was so absurd, it was   
actually quite funny. He actually laughed.  
  
Logan Cale was so dead he wasn't worth being angry about.  
  
"What the…"  
  
"Calm down," Logan said, arms crossed, standing there, as if nothing had happed.  
  
Zack actually sputtered. He sputtered. He was that shocked. Then he laughed again.  
  
"Oh, man, you really are nuts."  
  
"We need to talk," Logan simply said.  
  
He'd expected Zack to be angry. Okay, to be honest, now that he finally realized the full import of what   
he'd just done, pissing Zack off, he expected Zack to be homicidal.  
  
Noone pushed Zack around. And Logan Cale had just pushed him into a truck.  
  
'Oh…bad move, Logan,' he thought, but kept that calm air of composure he tried always to keep around   
him in the face of danger. And since the face in front of him was, as yet, too frozen with shock to be   
rushing at him as Zack went in for the kill, Logan supposed he still had a few seconds to plead his case.   
And he planned to use them.  
  
After all, he was the one who had a right to be angry here.  
  
"I want to know what your problem is," he said.   
  
"My problem!" Zack exclaimed. "My problem? You're the one who just tossed me into a truck, man,   
so…"  
  
"You know what I'm talking about," Logan heatedly interrupted. "So I repeat. What is your problem?"  
  
Zack tried to calm himself down, he really did. The reasons why he didn't want to kill Logan Cale kept   
repeating in his head like a mantra. But the look in Logan's eyes added concern to Zack's surprise and   
anger. Did he know that…  
  
"I don't know what the hell you're talking about," Zack mumbled, his hands clenched into fists at his side.  
  
Logan tapped into that seemingly bottomless supply of patience of his, and somehow kept his voice as   
calmly neutral as Zack was trying so valiantly, and unsuccessfully, to effect as well.  
  
"Well, let's see. Let me explain it to you…" Logan stated his case to the X5, beginning to pace, as Zack   
followed his movements, somewhat like a predator follows the movements of its prey. He didn't have to   
follow far, however. Logan had only one point to make. He said, simply, "Max."  
  
Zack just stared. Then he laughed. "What about her?" The words were supposed to sound nonchalant,   
though to Zack's own ears, they didn't quite come off.  
  
Logan simply stared at the other man. Zack stared back.  
  
"You love her," Logan said, voicing his long-time suspicions, the source of his long-time insecurities, for   
the first time aloud.   
  
The next thing he knew, he was being thrown backwards against the inside of the truck with enough force   
to raise him off his feet. And Zack was reaching for his throat.  
  
With one hand, Logan was able to pry Zack's fingers away from his neck, but it took both hands to keep   
them away. The two men grappled for the upperhand in the conflict, until Logan was finally able to push   
the younger X5 off of him.  
  
"Watch it!" he yelled when he could, taking a defensive position as Zack prepared to charge again. Both   
men were breathing heavily. "I'm not human anymore. Remember?"  
  
But that only served to antagonize Zack further.  
  
"Neither am I. *Remember* ?" he snarled.  
  
And then he leapt at Logan in a gravity-defying pounce that took him all the way to the very top of the   
truck's considerably tall cargo hold.  
  
Logan leapt at the same time.  
  
And the two men met in the air, crashing into one another with painful force, and sending the both of them   
tumbling out of the truck and onto the highway rushing past beneath them.  
  
  
  
  
  
Logan wasn't sure when, but apparently the truck they were on had begun to loose speed some time before,   
because he was certain that, had the truck been travelling at its original speed, neither he nor Zack would   
have survived the fall. As it was, they hit the pavement with a sickening thud, both crying out at the impact   
and loosing their grips on one another as pain replaced the fury in their bodies.  
  
Logan broke an arm in two places, and several ribs, he knew…as well as no telling what else. Zack   
dislocated a shoulder and broke his clavicle. Both were scraped and scratched from head to toe.  
  
And neither of them let that stand in the way of the confrontation that had just been waiting to happen ever   
since the two men had ever laid eyes on one another. Or on Max.  
  
As soon as Logan sat up, spitting blood and regaining his ability to breathe, Zack was at him again. He   
himself had just pulled himself off the ground, moving with the quick, choppy movements of a man   
exhausted and beaten. Neither man was in the condition to fight, but they tried. Fists flew and made   
contact. Sometimes Zack had the upper hand, and – for the first time in a long time – sometimes the tables   
were turned, and it was Logan who was still standing, holding his own. Right up until the moment when   
Zack would drag him back down again. And then the process would repeat.  
  
As it did, the men argued amongst themselves.  
  
"Who the hell…" Zack finally pulled back, gasping, with a split lip and a black eye. "Who the hell are you   
to tell me how *I* feel. You've been an "X5"…" Zack said the word like a slur, emphasizing his lingering   
suspicions that Logan was no such thing "…for all of several days. And suddenly you're a fucking expert   
on how X5s feel? On how I feel? Fuck you!"  
  
Logan pulled back, too. Both his knuckles were bloody and raw. And he was swaying on his feet.   
Goddamnit, his head was pounding. His arms felt numb. 'Jesus…'  
  
"Don't…" Logan had to work to form his thoughts into speech. The headache he'd had all night was now   
splitting his temples. And his lungs were on fire. "Don't…fucking even try…try pulling that   
sanctimonious, tough-guy, 'I'm so mysterious and tormented' bullshit on me."   
  
Logan finally collapsed, sitting on the ground with a hard thud.  
  
Zack finally allowed himself to sit down, too. Logan had broken one of his arms, as well, and he cradled it   
to him, useless. He looked at Logan like he was insane.   
  
"Sanctimonious? I'm sanctimonious?"  
  
"Yeah," Logan yelled back. "You. With all your 'let's do things my way" bullshit. All your talk of   
discipline and contact numbers and running away from anything even fucking close to the imitation of a   
real life. Like Max. Like Tinga's family, your brother-in-law and your nephew. Like Max. And the way   
you love her."  
  
"You…"  
  
"Don't even fucking try to deny it, Zack." Finally Logan's fury was beginning to abate. A good, old-  
fashioned brawl seemed to have done the trick. Or maybe he was just too near unconsciousness to feel   
much of anything else. Either way, his voice had lost most of its heat. "You love her. It's why you can't   
stand it to hear me even mention her. Or do you just have a habit of throwing people out of moving   
vehicles?"  
  
It took Zack a few seconds to respond to that.  
  
"She's my sister!" he insisted.  
  
Even as he said it, Zack knew that sounded lame. Yeah, he'd stick up for his sister; for any of his siblings.   
But, as the incident with Tinga had shown, the way he stood up for his other siblings was distinctively   
different from the way he stood up for Max. For Tinga, or the others, he planned, he attacked. He helped   
when he had to help, and he stayed objective.  
  
With Max, he jumped in, fists first, throwing himself out of a moving vehicle without a second's thought   
and all because someone had mentioned her name and 'love' in the same sentence.  
  
Logan laughed. Actually, he tried to laugh. What came out was more of an odd-sounding moan. His lips   
were split, too.  
  
"You aren't blood siblings, and we both know it. Your mothers were different. You didn't have actual   
fathers. Your DNA enhancements were each unique. You're no more her brother than I am."  
  
Logan's words stilled the atmosphere like the calm before a storm. Those were the words. The words   
noone had ever spoken, that noone had ever dared speak in Zack's presence. The words he'd used to   
convince himself, time and time again, that he wasn't completely twisted for feeling for Max the way he   
did. The words he still couldn't truly believe.  
  
Those words disoriented Zack in a way he had never been. He didn't know what to do with them; how to   
react. He was always so in charge, so in control. Even when he was wrestling with his irresistible   
attraction to the one woman he absolutely could *not* be attracted to, he was in control…because he hadn't   
actually given in to that attraction. He hadn't really admitted it, hadn't spoken of it, hadn't given any   
reality to it.  
  
Now Logan had. And Zack was totally lost.  
  
"Do you have a habit of throwing people into moving vehicles?" he finally asked, not really even hearing   
himself anymore. His genetically engineered mind was just working too fast on too many thoughts to deal   
with anything else. "You just did," he reminded.  
  
Logan sighed. "That's because I love her, too."  
  
Another unspoken emotion suddenly spoken of.  
  
Zack silently reeled. And everything seemed so quiet.  
  
"I didn't bring it up bec…"  
  
"Then why did you bring it up?" Zack quickly asked.  
  
Okay, so he wouldn't deny it any longer. At least not here, not right now. Not while they were both   
bleeding and cussing and he'd just gotten the chance to knock the almighty Logan Cale on his ass like he'd   
wanted to do for so long. But if Logan wanted to make something of it…  
  
The other man glared in his direction.  
  
"Look I don't like you," he said. Zack laughed. "I don't like you either, miracle boy," he said. But he was   
smiling. Another relief – to be able to say those words aloud, as well. To just come out and say it – that he   
didn't like Logan without having Max get all ballistic on his ass.  
  
Logan didn't smile. But seeing Zack do so eased the tension in the atmosphere a bit.  
  
"But I understand you." Then Logan rushed to continue before the spark of irritation that had just ignited,   
anew, in Zack's eyes had time to flourish. "Not everything. But I understand how you feel about Max. I   
understand that everything you do, you do for her. To protect her, and the others."  
  
Zack didn't know what to say to that. Because it was true.  
  
"I understand that you would never purposefully hurt her," Logan told him. "I still worry sometimes that   
even being near you is going to get her hurt anyhow…" Then he held up a hand to stop Zack's indignant   
tirade before it began "But I understand that you would never purposefully let that happen."  
  
Then Logan looked straight at Zack, totally serious.  
  
"I just wish you could understand the same about me.  
  
"You're a part of Max's life, I just have to deal with that. And I'm telling you, I'm going to be a part of   
Max's life from now on, more than I ever was before. For as long as she lets me, I'm going to be there.   
You're going to have to deal with that."  
  
Logan felt like he was merely an inch away from death, he hurt so bad, but his words were stronger than his   
body seemed at the moment. And his gaze as he stared at his rival was unwavering.  
  
Then Zack snorted.  
  
"Is that right?" The words weren't meant to be nearly as biting as they sounded, however. Somehow his   
anger at the other man, at the fact of what he was to Max, of what Zack wasn't, seemed to have abated   
considerably at the moment.  
  
"That's right," Logan replied. "So you can drop in unannounced, you can lurk in dark alleys all you like.   
It won't change anything."  
  
Zack frowned. "That wasn't what I was doing," he muttered. Then: "You've really got room to talk, Cale.   
Acting like you're fucking superman when if you'd pulled this stunt a month ago I would have creamed   
you."  
  
Logan struggled to stand, eventually making his way to where Zack sat.  
  
"That was a month ago," he said, sitting. "And you still creamed me," he said, more to see how the other   
man would react than anything. Zack just looked at him. Was Logan Cale actually making a joke? To   
him?  
  
"I'm just getting a little tired of the routine we keep going through. Max and I keep trying to make some   
progress together, and you keep getting in the way. It's a little childish, don't you think?"  
  
Zack snorted.  
  
He motioned around them.  
  
"And this is real mature."  
  
Logan finally smiled.  
  
But in the silence that followed, both men were still wrestling with the same doubts and disagreements   
they'd had before this little fiasco.  
  
"You're going to, you know," Zack finally said.  
  
"What?" Logan asked, breaking away from his own private thoughts.  
  
"Hurt her." Zack stared off into the distance, using that same, self-certain tone that always drove Logan   
crazy.  
  
"You say you don't want to but you will. By keeping her here in Seattle, involving her in your shit. You'll   
hurt her."  
  
He looked at Logan, waiting for his answer. And Logan gave it in the same self-certain tone that always   
droze Zack crazy.  
  
"The last thing I want to do is hurt Max."  
  
Zack snorted, looking away again. "Yeah." A little muscle in his jaw began to flinch. "Well, we don't   
always get what we want, do we?" he said.  
  
And this time it was Logan who didn't know what to say. Because that was true, too.  
  
  
  
  
  
**** ****  
  
  
  
  
  
Meanwhile, a matter of miles away, Max stormed into an apartment building in Sector Nine.  
  
Just as Logan had chosen to temporarily relocate, Bling had also taken up another residence. He'd gone   
back to the apartment he'd lived in before coming to work for Eyes Only; a modest, but nonetheless   
comfortable five-roomer on the very edge of the high-rise district. A long list of wealthy clients had made   
the accommodations possible, and Bling had kept the place even after he went to live with Logan. He'd   
been renting it out in his absence, but his last tenant had moved out only weeks before.  
  
So now he was living there again.  
  
And now Max was picking her way in, with an angry frown on her face and not a lot of patience in mind.  
  
Therefore, when she was met by the sight of Bling standing on the other side of the door, firearm at the   
ready, she skipped her usual pleasantries and just blew away a strand of hair that had fallen into her eyes.  
  
"How's it hangin', Bling?" she mumbled, stomping into the apartment.  
  
Bling just blinked. "Max?"  
  
Belatedly, he put the gun away. "Hey, Max, sorry. I wasn't expec…"  
  
"So, how're you doin', Bling? Nice place. Oooh, like the view."  
  
Max walked around the room, pretending to admire the décor. And she did. But she was way too steamed   
at the moment to pay attention to color schemes and artwork.  
  
Bling just watched as Max paced. And immediately tuned in to the fact that his petite X5 companion was   
highly pissed.  
  
"Uh, thanks." Then he got to the point. "What's wrong?" he asked, walking into the apartment with her   
and closing the door behind him.  
  
Max shrugged. Extremely unconvincingly.  
  
"Wrong? Why would anything be…what the hell is the problem with him, anyway?"  
  
Bling kind of laughed. "Okay…uh, what…"  
  
Max finally stilled, looking at him with a sigh. "Logan," she finally said.  
  
"Logan?"   
  
Bling immediately became anxious.  
  
"Logan? What's happened? Why…"  
  
"Bling! Bling, nothing's happened." Max seethed. "Yet, anyway," she said. Then she gave Bling an   
apologetic smile. She dropped onto his couch.  
  
"Sorry. Didn't mean to shake you up. I just…Augh!" Max felt like pulling her hair out.  
  
Finally, Bling sat down by her. Kind of chuckling.   
  
If Logan wasn't in that kind of trouble, then he was obviously in another kind.  
  
"I just…I can't figure out the dealio with them, you know?"  
  
"With who?"  
  
"Zack and Logan," Max replied.  
  
And Bling shook his head. "Zack and Logan?" Maybe he was wrong. He'd thought they were talking   
about a problem with Max and Logan. "Zack and Logan" was a different brand of trouble altogether.  
  
"What about Zack and Logan?" Bling asked, warily.  
  
"Their kicking each other's asses," Max told him, calmly.  
  
And Bling shot off the couch.  
  
"What!"  
  
"Calm down!" Max grabbed Bling by the sling and pulled him back into a sitting position.  
  
"But…Zack…"  
  
"There's nothing we can do about it," Max said. Then her eyes narrowed. She was seething again. "For   
now. Even if I knew where they are, they're obviously determined to do everything they can to piss each   
other off. So if that's what they want to do, I say let them."  
  
'Liar.' She didn't want then to do any such thing. But what could she do? That truck had been out of sight   
before she'd realized what was happening. She still couldn't figure out exactly what was happening.  
  
"Max…" Bling said, getting her to look at him. "I don't know what the hell is going on. But, if what you   
say is true…Zack is going to kill Logan."  
  
Max shook her head.  
  
"The playing field's even now, remember?" 'I hope,' she silently added to herself. "Zack isn't going to   
kill Logan."  
  
Then Max shot up.  
  
"At least I hope not. I don't know…What the hell is wrong with them? Why does Zack always gotta be   
there, you know? Trying to talk me out of being with Logan. Why does he hate him so much? And why   
does Logan always got to be so goddamned secretive. Pushing Zack into truck…what the hell was he   
thinking? Couldn't he at least have told me what he was going to do? What was he thinking?"  
  
Bling just sat there, stunned, as Max ranted.  
  
"Uh…"  
  
He had no idea what she was talking about. What truck? But some of the other things she said rang true.  
  
"Why does he think he has to do everything on his own?" Max continued. "Couldn't he have talked to me?   
We could have talked to Zack together. I mean, there isn't really a 'together' with me and Logan yet, but I   
thought…I mean I think…" Finally, Max stopped, looking at Bling again. Sighing again.  
  
She raised her hands in a gesture of defeat.  
  
"I give up," she said, sitting back down. "Men suck."  
  
Bling laughed.  
  
Finally, Max calmed down enough to smile at him again.  
  
"Present company excluded, of course," she added.  
  
And Bling patted her on the shoulder, fidgeting a little. Seems like ever since he'd come to work for Logan   
Cale he'd been performing five jobs at once: bodyguard, therapist, personal aide, trauma counselor, and   
Dear-Abby-wanna-be. Got a problem in your lovelife? Being stuck in a chair interfering with your would-  
be girlfriend? Want to rant a little? Your genetically engineered brother causing trouble with your   
genetically altered boyfriend?   
  
Bling's your man.  
  
Bling sighed, smiling.  
  
"Come in the kitchen," he said, standing up. "I cooked." Then, at the hopeful little glint that appeared in   
Max's eye, he laughed. "I don't cook like Logan," he warned. "But I cooked."  
  
Max nodded. And they walked to the kitchen together.  
  
"And while we eat…why don't you and I have a little talk about Logan?"  
  
  
  
  
  
And that's what they did.   
  
Or, at least, that's what Bling did.  
  
As he reheated leftovers from the dinner he'd prepared after leaving Crash, Bling talked. He didn't so   
much defend Logan's position, as he did explain it. Logan was pretty complex, so it might have taken a lot   
of explaining. But Max knew Logan. And she was pretty complex herself.  
  
And Bling had a way with explaining. After all, that's how he'd spent this afternoon – explaining to Logan   
why that overdeveloped sense of guilt of his was misplaced. Now he was explaining to Max how that   
overdeveloped sense of guilt came to be.   
  
"So you think," Max said slowly, repeating what Bling had just told her, though in not so many words   
"That all this ties back to before Logan was Eyes Only?"  
  
Bling pulled a dish out of the microwave when it dinged and handed it to Max. Who set it down on the   
counter without realizing it. She was thinking about a lot more than dinner right now.  
  
And Bling continued to talk. "You know just as much about Logan then as I do. But from what I can   
gather, he wasn't exactly Mr. I-Can't-Save-the-World-fast-enough all his life. He grew up rich and spoiled.   
I'm betting 8 year old Logan didn't even realize the world needed to be saved."  
  
Max shrugged. "So what's wrong with that? He was just a kid."  
  
Bling nodded. "And then he was a teenager, still rich, still spoiled. Then he went to some nice, big, Ivy-  
league university, no change. He married Val. He lost Val. To hear Logan talk, he was capitalism   
incarnate."  
  
Max shook her head. "Yeah, sure," she said sarcastically. When she'd first met Logan she'd thought that   
very thing. Mr. Money Bags, living in his high-rise penthouse, living his happy, hedonistic little life,   
oblivious to all the suffering going on all around him. But she'd learned better fast. Sure, Logan had a   
much more privileged background than most. Sure, she still teased him about it sometimes. But now she   
couldn't really ever imagine Logan not being…Logan. Not being all *too* caught up in all the suffering   
going on all around him.  
  
Bling just shrugged. "Who knows? I'm just saying, that's apparently how Logan sees himself now. As   
having been some self-absorbed rich kid. Now I think he feels like he owes the world some kind of   
restitution. Like he's making up for lost time. He made mistakes. And he feels like if he makes anymore,   
he may never get out of debt."  
  
Max laughed, but there wasn't any humor to the sound. She felt…sad. What Bling was saying about   
Logan was true. He did have this attitude about him like he felt he owed society something. As if risking   
his life for it, day after day, wasn't enough. As if nothing was ever enough.  
  
And that was suddenly extremely sad.  
  
"That's crazy," Max said quietly. Bling didn't say anything. "What makes Logan think he's so god-  
damned special? Why is he so sure it's his debt to pay? Millions of self-absorbed rich people live in the   
United States, in Seattle. And you don't see them taking any bullets for the downtrodden. They don't give   
a shit and they never will. And Logan thinks *he's* the bad guy here?"  
  
Bling smiled. She sounded like him.  
  
Max shook her head then. "If Zack doesn't kick his ass tonight, I will."  
  
Then Bling laughed, walking over and putting an arm around Max's shoulders. He liked Max. He really   
did. He liked what she did for Logan, for Logan's life. And he just liked her. She was a good kid. Odd,   
but he had a genetically engineered super soldier snuggling up to him and all he could think was what a   
good kid she was and how he hoped she and his best friend could work things out.  
  
Max sighed, leaning her head on Bling. "It's not just his fight, you know," she said. Then, quieter: "It   
doesn't have to be."  
  
Bling nodded, sighing, too. "Yeah, I know."  
  
Then he looked down at Max.  
  
"And Logan knows, too," he told her. "but it's gonna take him some time to get used to it. It was just his   
fight for a long time. You saw what his family thinks of his being a cyberjournalist. No way they'd   
support Eyes Only. And the men who worked closest to Logan since Eyes Only started died in that   
shootout with Sonrisa.  
  
"All his life, Logan had people like 'Uncle Phil' telling him compassion for people less fortunate than   
himself was a waste of time. Much less to go out on a limb and do something for those people. His family   
practically disowned him for even writing about them. He's just gotten used to treating his work like his   
own, personal little secret. Because for a long time it was."   
  
Max stood there, absorbing what Bling was saying. Thinking about it. Hating Logan's family a little more   
that she thought about it.  
  
And then her thoughts were disturbed as the door to Bling's apartment burst violently open.  
  
  
  
  
  
**** ****  
  
  
  
  
  
Zack and Logan remained that way for a long time – just sitting there, covered with dust and blood and   
bruises, eyes closed, recuperating and thinking. Zack was trying to regain his breath, letting those healing   
qualities of his kick in. He assumed Logan was doing the same thing.  
  
It didn't occur to him that, as they were sitting there, Logan was only getting worse. The pounding in his   
head had subsided and now Logan didn't feel it. He didn't feel much of anything, really. And for a man   
who'd once been paralyzed this was a terrifying sensation, but his mind was too clouded to really latch onto   
to that fear.  
  
So Logan just sat there, telling himself it was okay. He'd be fine in a minute. He was just a little dizzy   
from the alcohol he'd had earlier. He was just a little shaken up from falling out of that truck. He was just   
a little sore from fight with Zack. He was…  
  
'Jesus!' He was miserable.  
  
Finally Zack pulled himself to his feet, feeling awkward now after the fight with Logan. But mostly after   
the talk they'd had. What did he do now? What the hell did he say?  
  
"Uh…I guess we better get you back to Sketchy's. Max is going to kick my ass as it is."  
  
Then he actually looked over at Logan, and frowned.  
  
"Hey, Logan, are you okay?"  
  
The other man was just sitting there, eyes closed, his head in his hand. He was frighteningly pale.  
  
For the first time it occurred to Zack that perhaps he'd done more damage in their fight than Logan was   
letting on.  
  
"Damn it! Logan, are you okay? Hey, miracle boy?" Zack's voice sounded just as it always did, but   
behind his perpetually casual attitude, concern and guilt began to fester.  
  
What if he'd really messed Cale up? Logan had seemed a pretty fair match while they were fighting.   
Healing abilities or not, Zack still hurt like hell everywhere Logan's fists had made contact. So he hadn't   
pulled any of his punches. Should he have? Logan just sort of groaned.  
  
"Cale?"  
  
Finally, Logan looked up. "Okay, okay, I'm fine. I've just got a headache. You don't have to talk so   
loud."  
  
Finally, Zack breathed again. Then he cussed. "Well don't just fucking sit there. I thought I'd killed you   
or something."  
  
Logan laughed. Then he flinched at the pain that movement caused. "Don't flatter yourself." He began to   
stand…  
  
Zack rolled his eyes. What an idiot. He'd been going all soft, worrying about Cale, and the arrogant little   
prick…  
  
…then Logan fell. He didn't even make it all the way to his feet, when, with a sudden pained yell, he fell   
to his knees, clutching his head.  
  
And then he started to seize.  
  
"Fuck!"  
  
Zack was at Logan's side in a flash, those advanced X5 reflexes of his coming in handy. He held Logan   
down as the other man was suddenly wracked by strong, violent shakes.  
  
"Logan! Logan, what the…"  
  
'What the hell?!'  
  
Zack's eyes were wide. And for the second time since they'd fallen out of that truck, Zack felt totally   
shocked out of control. What the hell was he going to do?  
  
That's when the truck driver decided to make himself known.  
  
Sometime earlier, when he'd heard noises coming from his cargohold, he'd slowed so that he could pull   
over and check it out. Obviously, something was in his truck but he had no idea what or who. But before   
he could stop, suddenly two forms came rolling out of the back and down the dark, stretch of road behind   
him.  
  
He'd been horrified to realize they were people.  
  
So, as soon as he could, he stopped the truck. And it had taken him forever to find somewhere to safely   
turn around and go back.  
  
When he'd come across the two men who had tumbled out of his truck, he'd expected to find them in worse   
shape than they were, had feared to find them dead. But they were alive and probably two of the most   
shocking people he had ever seen in his life. They were fighting each other with unbelievable strength.   
The fact that they were even conscious seemed pretty unbelievable to him, actually. The driver had spent   
the moments since then torn between the inability to turn away from the awesome spectacle, and the   
panicked instinct to flee.  
  
Now he rushed to Zack's side, causing the other man's eyes to snap up sharply. He didn't know where the   
other man came from, how, or why, but under the current circumstances he didn't suppose it mattered.  
  
"Hey, buddy, is he alr…"  
  
The driver hadn't even spoken a full sentence, when suddenly Zack was on his feet, throwing Logan's still-  
shaking form over his shoulder with a heavy groan.   
  
"Is there anything I can do to help?" the man was continuing.  
  
Zack didn't even look at him. Before the driver could determine the X5's intentions, Zack was halfway to   
his truck.  
  
"You can drive this rig back to Seattle as fast as you can."  



	11. Chapter 11

The Gift of Darkness, part 11  
by pari106  
  
pari106@hotmail.com  
http://www.geocities.com/pari106/damain.html  
  
Rating: PG-13, as always.  
Disclaimer: Dark Angel belongs to Cameron, Eglee, and FOX.  
  
Summary: Okay, here's something a little different. We leave Max, Zack, and Logan for a while and   
switch to…yep, Lydecker. I'll let him answer some of the questions surrounding Logan's condition. One   
such question being: what are they going to do now that Logan's gotten away? The answer: he hasn't   
gotten anywhere. Because Lydecker's known exactly where he was this entire time…  
  
A/N: thanks again for all the reviews! Keep it up!   
  
  
  
Gift of Darkness, part 11  
by pari106  
  
  
Just as Max was stepping into Bling's apartment, and Zack was racing Logan back to Seattle, somewhere   
on the other side of Sector Nine, a lone, unmarked van sat silently outside an abandoned warehouse.  
  
The warehouse was the location former general Donald Lydecker had chosen for his base of operations.  
  
Inside, the tech who had been monitoring Logan Cale's tracer signal was switching rotations with another.   
Meanwhile, Deck waited out in the van, Doctor Rothbauer, a lieutenant formerly under his command, and   
his ever-growing displeasure with the progress of this mission his only companions.  
  
Or make that his displeasure with the lack of progress of this mission.  
  
They were behind schedule. Unacceptably behind schedule. By initial calculations, they should have had   
Cale yesterday. But due to an unforeseen…complication they had had to shut down surveillance. They'd   
lost Cale's signal. Now they'd been searching to regain it, but their efforts had been unsuccessful. They'd   
spent a lot of time for nothing. And time was the one thing they did not have.  
  
Therefore Donald wasn't particularly in the mood for chitchat when Dr. Rothbauer suddenly decided to   
speak.  
  
"We should never have implanted that tracer," he muttered.  
  
Rothbauer was exactly the type of person Deck tended to avoid. He was a small, thin, pale, insignificant   
sort of man; balding, middle-aged. Average. He had a constant air of nervous distaste about him that made   
the general nauseous. He was the type who involved themselves with the government only because they   
could make a profit out of it. Miles Rothbauer didn't have the vision that Donald Lydecker did.  
  
He did, however, have a premier ability with devices such as tracers. And his very lack of commitment to   
Manticore was what made it safe to involve him in these affairs.  
  
So Deck tried not to be too disgusted with the other man's useless comment.  
  
He did, however, sigh, having to make quite an effort not to roll his eyes, for propriety's sake, as he   
responded.  
  
"Doctor Rothbauer…only days ago you were outraged that we didn't put a *stronger* tracer in your   
patient," Lydecker calmly stated. As if speaking to a child. In his eyes, he was. "Now you're angry   
because we put one in at all?"  
  
Rothbauer might have been average, but he wasn't stupid. He could recognize condescension when he   
heard it. And he wasn't immune to the timely nature of their plans, either. If he were he would never have   
spoken in such an informal manner to Lydecker.  
  
"I'm not angry," he insisted, fidgeting in his seat. "I'm concerned with the patient."  
  
Lydecker snorted. And the unexpected sound nearly caused the doctor to jump.  
  
"Alright. With the success of the mission, then," he nervously corrected.  
  
This time Deck didn't say anything.  
  
He could just bet that Rothbauer was concerned with the success of the mission.  
  
Logan Cale was walking around with some very expensive hardware in his body – a prototype tracer   
Rothbauer hadn't even been privy to until Lydecker had enlisted him in this mission. If they lost Cale, they   
lost the prototype. And any and all profits Rothbauer might have been able to squeeze out of it.  
  
And since losing Cale could be considered synonymous with losing this advance against Manticore,   
Rothbauer would undoubtedly lose his job, as well. And his life along with it.  
  
His concerns weren't at all selfless.  
  
And Lydecker didn't expect them to be. Rothbauer was an opportunist doing his job, not some benevolent   
healer. What did he care for the life of one man? Particularly for the life of Logan Cale, the "enemy"?  
  
Nor did Lydecker condemn him for his selfishness. Were his own concerns any less self-centered? Wasn't   
his concern always more for the mission than for the men and women involved? Weren't his concerns for   
the fate of the X5s less about his feelings for them, and more about self-preservation, seeing as their   
destinies seemed to be so very intertwined?  
  
The general's silent musings were interrupted by Rothbauer's whining protests.  
  
"And I wouldn't say it was outrageous to want to protect our investment in this endeavor," the Doctor   
continued.  
  
It was all he needed to say to cause Deck's eyes to narrow.  
  
"Would you say then, doctor," Lydecker said, his voice dangerously quiet. "That you are protecting   
*your* investment in this endeavor by questioning my judgement?"  
  
The atmosphere in the van was suddenly very still.  
  
And that was all the warning Rothbauer needed, Lydecker knew, to keep him from any further   
insubordination.  
  
Because that was what Deck saw it as. They were no longer on government payroll. But, by God, they   
were still at war. Even if it was a war against their former compatriots. And, when at war, you had to   
maintain discipline amongst your troops.  
  
That taken care of, Lydecker was suddenly free of all the tension that had building over the last several   
hours. He relaxed in his seat and gave the doctor a casual smile.  
  
"Besides," he said. "Why have you suddenly changed your position on the procedure now?"  
  
"I don't object to a tracer, General," Rothbauer finally answered, though tentatively, unsure of how to   
behave around the mercurial soldier. He removed his glasses for a moment, to massage the bridge of his   
nose, then replaced them with a sigh. "But a basic tracer would have been less risky. And much more   
accessible…"  
  
"To being found out the second my kids laid eyes on him." Lydecker said. He shook his head. "A   
conventional tracer would have been detected immediately."  
  
"Perhaps," Rothbauer conceded. "But a conventional tracer wouldn't have killed its host."  
  
For the first time, it was Deck who felt discomforted by the doctor's comments. This added an edge to his   
response and a frown to his expression. He pointed at a nearby monitor.  
  
"He's still alive."  
  
The reassurance wasn't very reassuring, Lydecker knew, but noone called him on it. The experimental   
tracer they had used on Cale could remain active for days after its host's death. They had no way of   
gauging the man's condition by the condition of the prototype.  
  
"Look, Doctor…the only way we'll have a problem with this is if something untoward is introduced into   
Cale's bloodstream, like a depressant. He's clean, and he's with friends, so I doubt he'll be drugged   
anytime soon. And I don't think he'll spend his first full evening away from Manticore getting plastered."  
  
Lydecker reached over onto a nearby table that had been bolstered to the van's floor. He picked up the file   
sitting there and threw it at his companion.  
  
"You said it yourself – the risk of chemical interference with the tracer is minimal."  
  
Rothbauer grabbed the file, but he didn't need to look at it. He'd written the damned thing after all.  
  
"A minimal risk is still a risk," he insisted.  
  
That was true. And they'd been taking a lot of risks lately. Far too many, by Rothbauer's thinking. But   
Lydecker disagreed.  
  
Risk was necessary. Just as letting Cale go had been necessary. Just as shutting down the surveillance   
system had been necessary. You couldn't avoid risk. You couldn't always detect it. You could only   
prepare for it, and attempt to overcome it.  
  
And they would simply have to overcome this one. There was no other choice.  
  
When they'd outfitted Cale with the tiny device, they'd known that they needed a tracer that would be   
undetectable, not only to the X5s, but also to Renfro and her minions at Manticore, should they become   
aware of Lydecker's actions. The prototype was exactly that. It was undetectable. It was also virtually   
irremovable, except by someone who was aware of exactly how it was implanted.  
  
Since this tracer was, by definition, a prototype, the only of its kind, Lydecker could count the number of   
people possessing that knowledge on one finger.  
  
The tracer was almost perfect.  
  
Almost.  
  
But it had its share of disadvantages. And it entailed its share of risk.  
  
The tracer's unique ability to avoid discovery lay entirely in its sensitive placement within the host's body.   
It was designed to be inconspicuous; to be placed in areas of the body where noone else would look. Areas   
like the lining of a lung, for example, or, as in Cale's case, the exterior of the heart. Therefore it wasn't any   
larger than a watch battery. And its signal was only about as strong. That's why they'd had to monitor   
Cale so closely; it was why they'd lost his signal so easily and had so much trouble regaining it. The   
tracer's signal had been intentionally made negligible to avoid interfering with the implantee's internal   
organs.  
  
But none of that mattered if extreme stress was put on the implantee's body. Or if the implantee's   
bloodstream became polluted. Any significant alteration of blood pressure or breathing capacity or brain   
activity could cause serious complications with the tracer's operation. And therefore, with whatever organs   
the tracer was located near.   
  
It was a risk. But a necessary one.  
  
And Rothbauer was right. Minimizing the number of risks in this mission would have been preferable. But   
they were in this thing way too deep to be worrying about what they'd prefer. They'd had to have some   
way of keeping track of Eyes Only.  
  
And if they could only locate him now they could remove the damned tracer, and the issue of that risk   
would no longer even be an issue.  
  
"Doctor," Lydecker looked at Rothbauer intently. "I know we've taken a great risk here. But, believe me,   
giving Eyes Only what we've given him and letting him loose, without any way of ensuring that we could   
get him back…that wouldn't have been a risk. It would have been suicidal."  
  
The doctor didn't say anything. He'd known nothing about Eyes Only before this had begun. He was   
aware of the man's activities when they became publicized, but he had no idea just how far those activities   
concerned Manticore. Even now, all he knew about him, Logan Cale, were the cold, hard medical facts   
he'd off-handedly observed and noted in his files. He hadn't thought that he needed to know anything   
more than that. But now something about the general made Rothbauer rethink his decision.  
  
Lydecker was interested, he realized. He had an interest in Eyes Only that he usually reserved for the X5s.   
That in itself made Rothbauer certain that there was something more worth knowing here.  
  
"How well do you know this young man?" he suddenly asked, surprising himself maybe as much as   
Lydecker. He hadn't really intended to speak the question aloud. But once he had, the general didn't seem   
bothered by it. He answered immediately.  
  
"Not at all," he admitted. "He's been somewhat of an…enigma."   
  
Then he just raised an eyebrow; seeming to consider his thoughts on that. He looked as though he were   
considering a great many things.  
  
And then, to Rothbauer's continuing surprise, he sort of laughed. "To be perfectly honest," Lydecker   
continued, "before all of this began, I didn't even know his name. But I'm learning." He looked at the   
Doctor, nodding, suddenly very serious. "I'm learning."  
  
Rothbauer had no idea what Lydecker meant. But then, unbeknownst to him, there was a lot of things   
about Lydecker's mission that he had absolutely no idea about.   
  
Nonetheless, he pushed away the feelings of unease his conversation with the general had caused, intending   
to spend the rest of their time waiting for their technician's return in silence.  
  
"For all our sakes, general," he said first. "I hope you don't learn that you're wrong." About Cale or about   
any of this.  
  
Lydecker didn't comment. He was a soldier. He didn't entertain his feelings aloud like Rothbauer did.  
  
And yet, secretly, when he considered the doctor's words…  
  
'I hope you don't learn that you're wrong.'  
  
Secretly, Lydecker hoped so, too.  
  
  



	12. Chapter 12

"The Gift of Darkness", part 12  
by pari106  
  
pari106@hotmail.com  
  
Disclaimer: See first chapter  
Rating: PG-13  
  
A/N: Sorry this took so long! Forgive me! Please keep reading and reviewing!  
  
A/A/N: Here's my URL if you wanna go check out my webpage: http://www.geocities.com/pari106/damain.html I have all my old stories, plus two M/Z stories in progress, and a Z/M/L (complete!) all new! (I figure it would be a good idea to give you the URL, just in case you have trouble getting to it here. Now that FF.Net is back up and running, I figure the Dark Angel section will be crazy busy!)  
  
Yet another author's note: Speaking of which, let me just give a quick nod to the folks at Fanfiction.Net. What would we do without them? (During the outage I found out. And it isn't pretty.)  
  
Gift of Darkness, part12  
by pari106  
  
  
  
When the door to Bling's apartment burst open, Max's first instinct was to duck. Bling's first instinct was   
to reach, yet again, for his gun. But the next sensation that assaulted both of them was a feeling of déjà vu.  
  
"Max!" their intruder yelled.  
  
Max stilled. "Zack?"  
  
Then she and Bling came out from the kitchen. There, coming through the door, was a bloody and beaten   
Zack…carrying a bloody and beaten Logan. That's where the déjà vu kicked in. Because Logan was not   
only covered in blood, once again, but he was also unconscious.  
  
"What happened?" Bling and Max were both asking, simultaneously.  
  
Zack had just opened his mouth to speak, when suddenly Logan jerked so violently he almost came out of   
the other man's arms.  
  
"Help me!" he yelled, lowering Logan to the floor as the others rushed to his side.  
  
"What the…"  
  
Bling had no idea what was going on, but Max had a horrible idea that she did. She watched, helplessly, as   
Logan writhed beneath them.  
  
"Seizures…" she whispered.  
  
'Oh, God.'  
  
Logan was seizing. And bad.  
  
"Max!" Before Max could contemplate the situation any further, Zack's voice was tugging her back to   
reality. She looked up to him, her dark eyes meeting his blue. And if anything frightened her more than   
seeing Logan this way, it was seeing that look in Zack's eyes. Because Zack look frightened, too, and he   
was never frightened. Especially not where Logan was concerned. "You know what to do," Zack told her   
now.  
  
"We need triptophan."  
  
"What?" Bling asked, looking up. "Triptophan…"  
  
"Helps alleviate seizures in X5s," Zack finished for him. Both Bling and Max gave him a look. It was the   
first time he'd referred to Logan as if he believed that that was what he'd become. But Zack didn't notice   
their looks. He turned to Max instead. "Do you have yours with you?" he asked. Logan was starting to   
settle down.  
  
Max shook her head.  
  
And then, suddenly, the seizures were back again, strong enough to startle the two men nearby. "Then go!"   
Zack yelled.  
  
Max didn't hesitate. She was out of the apartment and speeding away on her bike in a flash, heading back   
to her place to retrieve her bottle of triptophan.  
  
  
  
**** ****  
  
  
  
By the time Max arrived back at Bling's, Logan's seizures seemed to have stopped. For the time being.  
  
Zack and Bling had put him in Bling's bed, and now he was sleeping like the dead.  
  
And the second Max thought that, she cringed, pushing back the panic that suddenly arose at the visual.   
'Bad metaphor, girl.'  
  
Then she saw Zack and Bling sitting in the kitchen.  
  
Or, rather, she heard them before she saw them.  
  
"No. I'm fine."  
  
"No, you're not. A little ice would…"  
  
"I don't need a little ice. It'll heal."  
  
"And until then, you're just gonna sit there and bleed?"  
  
"That's the idea."  
  
Despite the situation, Max smiled. She could imagine the look of long-suffering patience that must be   
playing out on Bling's face. She'd seen that look often enough thanks to Logan.  
  
Then the smile died as she remembered why Zack and Logan were bleeding in the first place.  
  
When she finally walked into the kitchen, Max's expression was grim.  
  
"Max!" Bling smiled when he saw her. Whether it was because he was actually happy to see her, or   
because she had the triptophan, or simply because she'd rescued him from further non-conversation with   
Zack, she didn't know.  
  
Max didn't smile. Zack didn't smile. Max set the bottle of triptophan down on the table.  
  
"He should take two of these as soon as possible," she said.  
  
Zack was just looking at her, with one of those carefully blank looks of his.  
  
And Bling glanced between the two.  
  
"Uh…yeah. He's sleeping now. But I'll see if I can get him to wake up and swallow a couple."  
  
Bling grabbed the bottle like it was salvation and left Max and Zack to their awkward silence. Max took a   
seat at the table and stared at Zack staring back at her.  
  
Finally they spoke. They both spoke. At the same time.  
  
"What the hell did you do?" she was asking, at the same time as he was saying, "It's not my fault."  
  
Then they both shut up. And tried again.  
  
"What do you mean, not your fault?" Max asked. Simultaneously, Zack said, "What do mean, what did I   
do?"  
  
Max sighed. "You didn't have to beat the…"  
  
"Look, I'm not the one who threw him into a truck, okay? Besides…" Zack was really glowering now,   
and his hesitance to say what he said next amused Max just enough to replace her ire. "He held his own,"   
Zack confessed, with a little shrug of the shoulder.  
  
Max snorted.  
  
"Yeah. I noticed."  
  
That cut on his lip, and the one over his left eye, didn't look so hot.  
  
Then Max sighed again, debating. She was angry at Zack for getting into this thing with Logan. Not as   
angry as she was at Logan for starting it, but…  
  
Still, Zack looked like a big kid sulking because he'd been punished for something his brother did instead   
of him. That thought made Max's lips quirk just a little. And the sight of Zack, sitting there, looking all   
roughed up, finally softened her gaze and her posture.  
  
Without another word, she went to the cabinets and pulled out a towel, then went to the freezer and pulled   
out a handful of ice, wrapping it up for a makeshift compress. Too bad Bling didn't have any steak.   
  
Then Max went over to Zack's side, kneeling by his chair. Apparently he had something else on his mind,   
because he didn't even realize what she was about to do until she was pressing the compress against his   
temple.   
  
"Ow! What the hell are you doing?"  
  
Zack tried to bat her hand away, but Max just raised a brow and pulled the towel and ice out of his reach,   
placing it back on his face as soon as he put his hand down.  
  
"Bling's right, you need to put some ice on that," she mumbled, using a dampened corner of the towel to   
wipe some of the blood of the skin surrounding the cut. "So stop being a baby," she told him, mostly for   
the sheer joy of needling him.  
  
Zack snorted, but he didn't resist any further. He just sat there, letting Max work in silence. But then that   
silence became awkward. Max was close enough for him to pick up the scent of her hair. She was   
kneeling awful close to him. She'd unconsciously rested one hand on Zack's knee, for balance, and her   
touch was gentle as she tended to his minor injuries…  
  
Zack squirmed in his seat.  
  
"I don't need to be coddled," he muttered under his breath.  
  
Didn't she have something else to do right now? Like pining by Logan's bedside or something? Anything   
that didn't require touching Zack?  
  
Max laughed. Oblivious to the reason for Zack's discomfort.   
  
"Zack, I don't know anybody who needs coddling more than you."  
  
The comment surprised him, but Max missed the sharp look Zack gave her.  
  
She did, however, pick up on a growing tension that had somehow begun to fill the room. For some   
reason, she became distinctly aware of how close she was kneeling by her brother. There was just   
something about the way…  
  
Max put a smile on her face, shoving the compress into Zack's hands.   
  
"There. I think you can take i…"  
  
She started to rise, but suddenly Zack's hand shot out and grasped her by the wrist.   
  
He was just staring at her, intently. Too intently. His blue eyes were trying to lock with her brown ones,   
and she felt his fingers move against the skin on the inside of her wrist, as if he were trying to caress her.  
  
Max let out the breath she was holding. "Zack…"  
  
But whatever she'd thought she'd seen, or felt, must have been imagined. Because this was Zack, right?   
Her brother?  
  
Anyhow, he let go of her before she could question herself.  
  
"I just wanted to say…thanks," he said.  
  
Max didn't know why, but she didn't believe him. He was still looking at her, and she hated when he   
looked at her like that. He had this riveting gaze, and you could never tell what he was thinking when he   
looked at you. It was intimidating. And discomforting at the moment.  
  
Still, Max kind of smiled. "Yeah. No prob." But her voice was quieter than she would have liked.  
  
In an ironic twist of the evening's earlier events, it was a voice from behind them that broke the tense   
silence of the moment.  
  
"I'm not interrupting anything, am I?" the voice asked.  
  
Max turned…and saw Logan standing there.  
  
"Logan?"  
  
This time, when Max smiled, it was genuine, and she went to Logan's side, she promised herself she'd wait   
till her felt better to beat the hell out of him for hitting her brother. And for scaring the hell out of her.   
Again.  
  
She'd interpreted the pained expression on Logan's face, when he'd come into the kitchen and saw Zack   
holding Max's hand, as having to do with his injuries. And she missed the pained expression on Zack's   
face as he watched her smile at Logan.  
  
And she also missed the heated look the two men exchanged, over her shoulder, when her back was turned.  
  
But, standing just behind Logan, Bling hadn't missed anything. He turned and went to the living room,   
sitting down as he sort of whistled under his breath.  
  
Transgenic love triangles. What the fuck next?  
  
Pediatrics. That's what he should have gone into – pediatrics. Snot-nosed kids with freckled faces. There   
were enough physical therapists cum bodyguards in the world.  
  
And if that look Zack and Logan had given each other was any indication, Bling had a feeling Seattle   
would be needing them.  
  
  



	13. Chapter 13

The Gift of Darkness, part 13   
by pari106  
  
check out my website:  
  
http://www.geocities.com/pari106/damain.html  
pari106@hotmail.com  
  
Rating: PG-13, as always  
Disclaimer: Cameron, Eglee, FOX…not mine… (I've written so many of these damned things, I'm   
starting to develop an inferiority complex. Why can't I own an X5 or two? Even just one they aren't using   
right now? But, no, their creators are woefully possessive. So don't bother suing me. I feel bad enough.)  
  
  
  
Gift of Darkness, part 13  
by pari106  
  
Logan spent the rest of that day resting and recovering. Max thought, a dozen times, of bringing up the   
night before. The kisses, both at Crash and out back in the alley. The fight he'd had with Zack, of which   
her brother would tell her absolutely nothing. But mostly she just let him recover.  
  
That night, Russell Sean contacted Logan.  
  
Max had done another run, this time to Sketchy's to pick up Logan's gear. It probably wasn't a good idea,   
bringing Logan back to Sector 9. But Zack hadn't known where else to take him. He'd figured Sketchy   
wouldn't have been any help. And since Logan was there already, he figured he might as well stay until he   
was a little steadier on his feet.  
  
Then Russell Sean called Logan on the secure cell line he'd told the doctor to use.  
  
A few moments after the phone rang, Logan came out of the guestroom he was using, folding the cell and   
slipping it into his pocket.  
  
"Russ' got a friend here in the state. He set up an appointment for me to see him tonight."  
  
Max, Bling, and Zack were sitting in Bling's kitchen again.   
  
"A friend of a friend, huh?" Zack mumbled in a snide tone, shaking his head. But he didn't bother   
repeating his familiar complaint. If these people wanted to involve the entire fucking city in their affairs,   
he supposed there was no way of stopping them. Not when Logan needed a doctor, and this underground   
guy was better than some stranger.   
  
Max sent him a little scowl anyway.  
  
"Where?" Bling was asking.  
  
"A good five hour drive from here." Logan reached into his pocket for the piece of paper he'd been jotting   
on while he was on the phone, then he tucked it away again. "I've got directions."  
  
"Guess we better get going then," Max said. And Logan smiled.  
  
Bling nodded, and rose, grabbing his keys and heading outside to start the car.   
  
"I'm outta here," Zack said, and the three turned to him in surprise.  
  
"Where are you going?" Logan asked.  
  
And Zack raised a brow. "What? You don't think I have better things to do than babysit you all day?"  
  
Logan scowled.  
  
The two men hadn't spoken more than a sentence to one another since their fight yesterday. To Logan it   
seemed like no one was particularly anxious to speak to him. Zack was no doubt uncomfortable by what   
had been discussed during the fight, and Max seemed uncomfortable bringing up the fight. What? Did she   
think he was going to break if they had one little argument? He was certain she was just dying to chew his   
ass over picking a fight with Zack. She never used to pull her verbal punches before. And he'd just had   
one seizure, for crying out loud. Max had them all the time, and she recovered. It wasn't anything to   
worry about. Right? And he was feeling much better now. In fact, he felt great. It was uncanny. Or was   
Max uncomfortable because of what happened before the fight; before Zack showed up. Maybe she was   
feeling awkward about their having made out?  
  
Damnit, Logan didn't know. He didn't know how Max was feeling. He didn't know what Zack was   
thinking. He didn't know what the hell that scene he walked in on earlier, when Zack was holding Max's   
hand, meant, if anything. And he was tired of waiting for answers.   
  
But, apparently, he would have to wait a little longer to get any answers out of Zack. Which, he supposed,   
was just as well. They'd probably spoken to one another more on that night of the fight than they ever had   
before. It was going to take a while to deal with that.  
  
And, in the meantime, Logan would be with Max. Alone. Well, except for Bling, but anyhow…They'd   
get to talk, at least.  
  
Still, Logan didn't like the snotty way Zack made his "babysitting" comment. He didn't particularly need   
the surly X5 hanging around, breathing down his neck. He supposed he'd just gotten kind of…used to   
having him around lately.  
  
"I'm sure you do," Logan muttered.  
  
"Zack…" Max threw her brother another one of those looks, but Zack was already heading out the door.  
  
"Watch your back," he said.  
  
Max immediately opened her mouth to respond, but then she realized something odd. Zack had been   
looking at Logan when he'd said that.  
  
Max looked at Logan, who looked a little surprised himself.  
  
"You, too," he called after the other man.  
  
Then Zack was gone. And Logan just stared after him a moment, shaking his head. 'Imagine that?'  
  
He never would understand X5s. Logan sighed. Pity he was in love with one.  
  
Then he caught Max staring at him and he shifted uncomfortably.  
  
"What?"  
  
She just kept looking at him. And she was standing awful close next to him. Logan detected the scent of   
her shampoo… was it getting hot in here?  
  
"Uh, we better get going," he said, heading for the door, as well.  
  
'Get a grip, Logan,' he told himself, scowling again. How was he ever going to start a serious conversation   
with her if, lately, he couldn't be within a foot of her without wanting to kiss her?  
  
Max lagged behind a moment before following, with a shake of her head.  
  
She would never understand men. Pity she was in love with one.  
  
  
  



End file.
